Darling
by LalaMoped
Summary: Sequel to Dearest Starling. A wedding, a baby, and plenty of other former Host Club fun. HunnyOC MoriOC KaoOC HikaOC TamaHaru KyouRen - Rated T for Language
1. Chapter 1

**Darling**

**Chapter One  
**(English is still _italicized_)

A light, powdery snow fell onto the earth, covering the ground with its pure white essence, and in the distance, the sound of Christmas bells and carols could be heard…

Boy, wouldn't it be nice if that were the truth?

"Ah, damn snow," cried an irritated man, stomping his feet to rid himself of the snow that had accumulated on his boots. "It's a blizzard out there!" This man was a Japanese-American, with short black hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He ceased his annoyed stomping when he heard his wife call back to him.

"_Oh, you say that every year,_" she said, entering the kitchen, where her cold, snowy husband had come in. The two had a strange relationship from an outsider's point of view. The husband, Jiro, was able to speak both Japanese and English, but favored the former, and spoke it by default. The wife, Susan, was also able to speak both, but usually only spoke English. In order to follow a conversation between the couple, one had to be able to speak both languages.

It was this couple that had brought Hikaru had Kaoru to a suburb just outside of Madison, Wisconsin—the original home of their significant others. Though Minori and Izumi hadn't really lived at home much since they had been on a Japanese children's television show when they were seven, they still returned to the place of their birth every holiday season.

"Otou-san!" called Minori, running in to glomp her father, who barely managed to keep from falling over.

The man laughed, "I'm guessing this one's Minori."

"_Honestly, dear,_" chastised his wife, "_You can't even tell your daughters apart?_"

"Oh, lay off, woman! I haven't seen my girls in forever," he said, engulfing Minori in a bear hug like she was still five. Susan rolled her eyes at her husband, but remembered something when she glanced at their guests out of the corner of her eye.

"_Dear,_" she called, beckoning Hikaru and Kaoru into the kitchen, where the mini-reunion was taking place, "_These are the Hitachiin brothers, Kaoru and Hikaru. You know, the ones that Izumi was telling us about._"

He let go of his oldest (by two minutes) daughter, approaching where the two young men stood. "It's said, that if you're a girl, the guy that your father hates is the right one for you," he gave them a lopsided grin that reminded them both of Izumi when she wasn't scowling, "Let's hope I don't like you boys, hm?"

"Tou-san, stop teasing them," Izumi said, entering the kitchen behind the twins, to which Jiro only laughed heartily in reply, while Susan rolled her eyes once more.

"_Jiro, pick up your boots, please. My parents will be here any minute._"

He stopped laughing, and turned with a grunt to do as he was told, picking up the offending boots and taking them into the bathroom so that the snow could melt into tub. Upon his return he inquired after the whereabouts of his only son.

"He's in Japan," Minori explained absently, checking the turkey, "I think he's visiting a girlfriend, or something."

"_Hon', I told you that he wouldn't be coming, remember?_" his wife reminded him patiently. There was no mistaking which twin took after which parent; Minori was serene and nurturing like her mother, and Izumi was forgetful and easily annoyed like her father—one could even go as far as to compare Komugi to his father, and Sumire to her mother, as if the siblings had _planned_ on splitting down the middle.

The door opened, then, and in walked the parents of Susan, brushing the snow off of their coats, and greeting everyone in the kitchen with warm smiles. At this point, everyone would have to speak English for the benefit of the elderly couple.

"_Grandma, Grandpa,_" Minori greeted them excitedly, giving them both hugs, "_I've missed you!_"

"_Oh, we've missed you, too, Brianne,_" they turned their attention to Izumi, then, "_And Leanne, good to see you!_"

Both male twins stifled laughter. "Brianne," started Hikaru.

"And Leanne?" finished Kaoru.

"What's with the names?" they asked Izumi, in quiet unison.

"Those are our middle names," she whispered back peevishly, "It's what Mom's side of the family calls us." She shot them dirty looks, as Hikaru and Kaoru continued to snicker to themselves.

"_And who are these strapping young men?_" asked the grandmother, "_Boyfriends?_"

Minori was quick to nod and introduce the Hitachiin twins, "_Yes, this is Hikaru and Kaoru._"

Their grandparents paled slightly; they hated trying to pronounce 'foreign' names, for fear that they would say it wrong and offend the person they were talking to. Needless to say, family gatherings that also included the Shigemiwa side of the family tended to be quite uncomfortable.

"_But we call them Ben and Jerry,_" Izumi stepped in, taking revenge on them for laughing at her name. "_Come on into the living room and I'll call Violet down…_"

Kaoru followed his girlfriend into the living room gloomily, while Hikaru hung back to speak with Minori.

"Who says I'm your boyfriend?"

She smiled innocently at him, "Well, I just thought that sleeping together meant that people were dating."

His face flushed noticeably, "You swore you'd never mention it, _ever._"

Minori, however, ignored him, "Perhaps I should ask my father what it means when a guy—"

"Okay, okay, okay, okay! We're dating, just **shut up **about it."

With a self-satisfied giggle, Minori left him blushing in the kitchen, to go join her family in the living room.

* * *

Haruhi glared down at the stick in her hand. _A plus sign_, she thought, heaving a sigh, _How am I going to tell him?_ It was then that the aforementioned '_him_' came in excitedly, holding a small, gift-wrapped package.

"Merry Christmas, Haru….hi," Tamaki blinked at his girlfriend, who sat on her bed, staring down at something she was holding. Concerned, he asked, "Haruhi, what's wrong?"

She looked at him for a minute, weighing her options, before holding the home pregnancy test out toward him. "Merry Christmas," was all she could bring herself to say, as he accepted the device and looked at the reading closely.

His eyes widened a moment later, telling her that he had just figured out what was going on, and he began to look back and forth between her and the test, mouth opening and closing repeatedly. His eyes closed then, as his arms fell limply to his sides, the test falling to the ground beside him.

"Senpai?" She stood, approaching him to examine his face better. Her brow furrowed, as she brought a hand up to him, "I know this is a surprise, but the least you could do is say some—"

He grabbed her hand suddenly, using the momentum to pull her to him. "Haruhi," he squealed happily, effectively cutting her off, "I'm going to be a daddy! This is the best Christmas ever!"

She resisted the urge to remind him that that's what he had said the Christmas before, the first time they had spent the night together. She did the second thing that came to mind instead: she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back. Haruhi didn't even get the chance to say anything before Tamaki was off on something else.

"Oh, there's so much we have to do to get ready! We need parenting books…"

"Senpai—"

"And we need to put together a nursery. In fact, we'll need to relocate you; I can't have the mother of my child living in a place like this…"

"Senpai—"

"Ah! The mother of my child?! What is wrong with me? I should marry you!"

"Senpai—"

"And we have to start interviewing nannies—you can never choose one too early, you know."

"SENPAI!"

Tamaki froze, turning to look at the woman who had just yelled at him, "…Yes?"

"How about we start with a visit to the doctor?" she suggested, ever the rational one.

He blinked at her, nodding dumbly. "Yeah," he pouted, "I guess we could do that, too."

She gave him a gentle smile, finding that his antics were becoming more and more endearing the more time she spent with him. With one affirmative nod, she put her coat on, "Are we going to my dad's or what?"

* * *

The streets were decorated with a beautiful array of colored lights in preparation for the holiday season; even through the dark tinted windows of a Mercedes-Benz, the colors were barely dulled. Amelia watched silently out her window at all of the people who were walking along the sidewalks. _Mostly couples_, she noted with a roll of her eyes at all of the people holding hands. She gave a sidelong glance at Mori, who sat to her right, eyes fixed out his window, probably thinking rather than actually looking at anything.

She was no Scrooge, but Christmas wasn't exactly her cup of tea, either. She had spent more than enough Christmases alone in the past, or worse yet, Christmases with her mother and Isaac at some ridiculous "charity" ball, or another. She was doing better now, but when thinking of the past, she couldn't help but be a little bitter.

As for her contempt for the couples on the street… It wasn't like she and Mori never showed affection towards one another, they just weren't the kind of people to be overly touchy-feely in public. Whenever the two of them went somewhere with Miss Natsumi and her husband (as Amelia was better acquainted with Natsumi than with Hunny), the married couple would always walk in front of them, hand in hand, while Mori and Amelia would walk behind, rarely touching. This was, of course, a completely different story when they were alone, as the two had a very… _hands-on_ relationship behind closed doors.

She was pulled from her musings when the vehicle came to a stop outside the home of the little couple that had been a part of her thoughts only moments before. The chauffer got out, first opening Mori's door, then coming around the car to open hers, waiting for the pair to make their way to the front door before driving off to park.

They were greeted by a maid, who led them to a sitting room. Only a few short minutes after that, a blond head came bouncing in excitedly.

"Takashi!" He plopped down onto a mat next to his cousin and began talking animatedly, before a much calmer presence entered the room after him.

"Thank you both for coming," Natsumi said, bowing to their guests. A year and a half of being married to Mitsukuni had helped her to cure herself of her shyness, though she still got uncomfortable in large crowds of unfamiliar people.

Mori and Amelia both gave twin nods of acknowledgement, to which Natsumi smiled and sat on one of the unoccupied mats, while Hunny continued his excited chattering.

The next few hours passed quickly, as the four of them conversed about the usual things (the married couple doing most of the talking) over dinner, before they all wished each other Merry Christmases, and Mori and Amelia were on their way back to Amelia's condo—which actually belonged to the Morinozuka family.

Hunny stood at the window, watching the taillights of his cousin's car disappear in the night, turning to look at his wife once the vehicle was out of sight. Said wife sat on the floor next to their Christmas tree, sketching thoughtfully in a dog-eared sketchpad, the charcoal of her pencil already staining the edge of her right pinky gray. She always had an ink stain of some sort on the side of her hand.

As if sensing his attention, she finally looked up at him, smiling sheepishly when their gazes met. Her face further flushed when he abruptly planted himself on the floor next to her, looking at the page where she had been drawing.

Hunny gave a sigh, having long since given up on asking her to explain her abstract pieces to him, and simply chose to enjoy their moment together instead. With a slight yawn, he maneuvered behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, while leaning gently on her back and peering at her illustration over her shoulder; eventually being lulled to sleep by her rhythmic pencil strokes.

* * *

Mori reclined against the back of a purple plush couch, appreciatively watching the woman in his lap, with her head resting on his chest. Though the condo was big enough for one, Amelia didn't bother putting up a tree, and so the couple made good use of the light dimmer switch instead. They had also forgone presents this year—having found out that neither of them were much good for selecting gifts the year before, which was good, because he wouldn't put it past her not to sell her hair at some point. The thought made him smile, and the woman in question (almost as if she sensed the humor at her expense) stretched against him like a lazy cat, settling into a more comfortable position.

Neither of them were arrogant enough to declare that their relationship was perfect, but there was a mutual understanding between the two that had no need to be spoken: if it wasn't perfection, it was closer than either believed they would ever get. Their biggest obstacle these days were his father, who had had no objections to his son dating the Willard-Jones heiress, but had suddenly gotten cold to the idea when she suddenly stopped being an heiress. The older man now regarded her as a temporary plaything for his son, until another omiai could be arranged, though Mori didn't plan on even meeting any of these girls; he had already turned down three—without Amelia's knowledge, of course.

The night further went on, with nine o'clock becoming ten, then eleven, and then twelve. Even then, the couple didn't move from their place on that overstuffed, deep purple couch, too content with each other's silent company to be bothered with the formalities of a proper goodbye, or a (less than proper) goodnight.

* * *

Every year, the Ootori family (as well as a number of other prominent families) was invited to a charity Christmas ball. To not attend was to personally insult the host, and Kyouya wasn't the kind of person to vex anyone who could help him reach his goals, especially when it was just as easy to keep "good interpersonal relations" with anyone who had money or power. In the case of the man who held these annual parties, Kyouya was extra careful, for this man—an obnoxious creature by the name of Ujiie Kaito—had both money _and_ power.

Of course, these parties were rather dull for anyone who wasn't particularly interested in relations of the interpersonal kind, an example of this kind of person was Renge. While she was an excellent businesswoman, who conversed easily among other businessmen and women, and who had an undeniable streak of cunning in her, she lacked interest in upward growth at the expense of others, and was too honest for her own (or Kyouya's, for that matter) good.

As he observed the bored look his fiancée surveyed the room with, he couldn't help but silently agree that he'd have rather been elsewhere on Christmas Eve, as well. He could be at home, in his office, looking over his files, or secretly checking on what Renge happened to be doing with her father's company-_not_ that he didn't _trust_ her judgment, or anything.

With a sidelong glance across the room at Ujiie, Kyouya leaned close to Renge's ear to speak privately with her. "As soon as he's finished with Yumoto-san," he explained, "We will get a turn to speak with Ujiie-san before anyone else can."

She looked warily in Ujiie's direction, "We? You mean the 'we' where you do all the talking and I just stand and look pretty, or the actual definition of 'we'?"

Kyouya's eye twitched at the woman's blatant resentfulness at her part in this great big game of Monopoly. Taking a calming breath, he turned to her, making sure to keep Ujiie in his peripheral vision. "Renge, I'm going to be honest with you," he said, meaning it, as he took her hand and began to lead her in the general direction of the night's target. "I want you with me because I trust your ability to read into people's characters. I am confident that I can handle things very well on my own, but… I find your input valuable."

She was silent, as they approached Ujiie Kaito, and Kyouya began a conversation with the man. As they moved out of the casual things, and slowly set into business territory, Renge had to force herself out of her stunned state so that she could pay attention to the boisterous man's reactions. She couldn't very well let Kyouya down now, not after a confession of that magnitude. Sure it hadn't been a romantic confession, but for a man like Kyouya, with the rules of business so deeply ingrained into his being, telling someone that you trusted them and valued their contribution practically _was_ a love confession.

When the conversation came to a close and Renge was sure that Kyouya had managed to mind-rape the man several times during their little chat, she turned, grinning up at Kyouya. The two of them stood in their corner once more, Kyouya watching for a new victim, Renge watching Kyouya. "There's some mistletoe over there. I'd try to trick you under it," she jutted her lower lip out at this, "But you're probably too smart for that, huh, Kyouya?"

"Yes," he affirmed, offhandedly, "And don't think that you can force me into an act of romanticism by pouting like that, either."

She crossed her arms, pretending to be testy about his answer, but inside, she didn't feel it was so bad. After all, what he had confided to her was worth more to her than an obligatory peck on the cheek would have been, anyway.

* * *

**A/n: If you're confused about what's going on or wondering who ****_these_**** mysterious characters are, I'll refer you to ****_Dearest Starling_****, which this is the sequel to.**

**If you've already read DearStar, this is set a year and a half later. Seems like a long time, I know, but nothing much has changed. Hunny and Natsumi are still happily married, Mori and Amelia are still together, Kaoru and Izumi are still together, Hikaru and Minori are on-and-off, Kyouya and Renge are still in their mutually beneficial engagement, and... Well, Tamaki and Haruhi have some big news.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Darling**

**Chapter Two**

Renge squealed in delight, as she ran through the bridal shop like a kid in a candy store, eyeing the flowing white dresses that occupied nearly every inch of the store. She bounced around the racks and mannequins animatedly, while the clerk who had offered her assistance and the other girls that she had suckered into coming with her stood near the entry, utterly dumbfounded.

Regaining her composure, the saleswoman smoothed out her skirt and approached Renge, making another attempt to help the girl in hopes of roping her into a more manageable state. Haruhi looked around absently, not nearly as interested in the dresses as Renge was, while Natsumi clutched her hands in front of her and watched Renge look through a catalogue and speak to the saleswoman in a much calmer manner, and Amelia crossed her arms, turning to look out at the street through the large front windows.

Both Haruhi and Amelia turned when Natsumi asked, "Ano… Have either of you ever been a bridesmaid?"

Haruhi shook her head, "No. I was a flower girl once, for the daughter of one of my dad's friends, but that's the only time I've ever been involved in the wedding."

Both women looked to Amelia then, who also shook her head, "My family doesn't attend weddings usually, and the rare cases when they do, they like to keep to themselves in the back."

"Yes," Natsumi smiled gently, "This will be my first time, too… Well, except for my own wedding." Blushing, she looked up just in time to be startled by Renge, bounding toward them, and she jumped back with a nervous cry.

Renge ignored this, already fairly used to the girl's timidity. "Alright, ladies! I've picked my dress, and I've picked your dresses. All they need now are your measurements," she paused, looking at Haruhi thoughtfully. "I wonder what they'll do about you?"

"Renge," Haruhi said patiently, "I'm not due until August; I probably won't even be showing at your wedding."

"Oh, good." Renge smiled again, turning to the clerk, who held up a measuring tape and waved her into one of the dressing rooms. "I'll be right back," she called back to the other girls, rushing to catch up with the woman, "Don't go anywhere, okay?"

Amelia sighed, turning back to look out the window. "Interesting how it crosses her mind that we might leave," she observed.

Haruhi went back to scanning the dresses from her position near the door. "Yeah," she agreed, "But the thought _is_ tempting…"

* * *

"Oh, how fate has slighted me!"

"Tamaki, don't flop so. It's distracting…"

Tamaki sat up suddenly, peering at his best friend, who continued to read nonchalantly while Tamaki vented some frustration to—er, _at_ him. More specifically, Tamaki was bouncing around Kyouya's couch restlessly, wailing about the cosmos playing cruel jokes on him, while the brunet did his best to ignore him. These days, Kyouya was getting plenty of practice at ignoring the theatrical personalities that were his fiancée and his closest friend.

"You don't understand, Kyouya; _you're_ marrying the love of your life! Mine won't accept any of my proposals!" Tamaki proceeded to flail about, thoroughly annoying the man who sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. "Ever since she told me that she was pregnant, I've been asking her in every romantic setting I can come up with!"

Kyouya, finally lowering his book and raising an eyebrow, replied coolly, "Haruhi is an independent person, Tamaki. I'm sure the prospect of allowing herself to be so easily tied down isn't exactly pleasing to her."

The blond sighed miserably, placing a hand over his eyes for (what Kyouya expected was) dramatic effect. "Then what do you suggest, Okaa-san?" he asked, peeking through his fingers.

"I'm really not the person to ask for relationship advice from, but I think that if you give her time, she'll come around eventually." Kyouya lifted his book back in front of his face, casting one last glance at Tamaki. "It seems to me," he said, then, "That the people you _should_ be discussing marrying Haruhi with are Ranka-san, and then your grandmother."

Tamaki winced at both suggestions. He hadn't told either of those parties about his recently discovered future fatherhood, and he really didn't _want to_, either.

"Furthermore," Kyouya added, "You had best act quickly, before the scandal gets out. If Haruhi were more interested in getting attention, or if I hadn't personally arranged the doctor for you, it would probably be all over the place by now."

Tamaki nodded, sitting up, now too distracted for his usual immature antics. Kyouya, for his part, was glad for the silence, as Tamaki mulled over this new observation that Kyouya had presented to him.

* * *

Kaoru stretched lazily on his leather sofa, glad that his day was finally coming to a close. He closed his eyes, feeling bored now that his busy day was over, and Hikaru wasn't going to be home for another three hours, at least.

_How did he manage to get an invitation to a party, when I didn't?_ wondered Kaoru, happy that his brother had friends outside of those that the two shared, but it really made things boring for poor Kaoru to be home all alone. With an exhausted sigh, Kaoru settled for watching television, happy that he wouldn't have any classes the next day, as the large screen came to life with the press of a button. He was about to start channel surfing when a little box popped up in the corner of the screen, telling him that there had been a reminder set.

"Ringing in the New Year with Bruce Fickle? Why would Hikaru be interested in this?" he wondered aloud, selecting the program and hitting 'okay'.

The television was instantly on the proper channel, and Kaoru found himself peering at a man with graying hair, as he spoke about some current pop culture.

"_And the number one most sold album this year was Korota's 'Forward', topping the charts suddenly in the last three months,_" Bruce continued on, only gaining Kaoru's attention at the mention of his girlfriend's band. Leaning closer to the television, Kaoru became entranced by the information that all of the Shigemiwa siblings had neglected to mention to him.

"_It is my pleasure to introduce my guests this year: Korota!_" The studio audience clapped, as all four of the siblings came out and sat in chairs near the host. The five of them all began their greetings, each band member introducing themselves. Once that was over, Bruce began asking them questions.

"_If I'm correct, Korota has been around for a while, right?_"

Komugi nodded, taking center stage as the oldest. "_Yeah,_" he answered, fidgeting slightly, "_Our first album was actually released seven years ago._"

"_Why do you think there's been such an increase in fans for you?_"

Minori decided to save her nervous brother, "_Well, I've heard some things about our lyrics, and some about our melodies, and it seems that most people are enjoying the newer stuff better._" She tilted her head toward her twin, intent on getting a subtle jab at the girl, "_Our lyricist can probably fill you in better on why there's been such a change in writing in the last year._"

The televised image of Izumi gave a self-satisfied smirk to the people watching her, before turning toward their interviewer with an answer. "_Honestly,_" she began, "_It's all because I've had a different kind of inspiration than I had for the previous years before 'Forward'._"

Bruce raised his eyebrows, teasing Izumi good-naturedly. "_Oh-ho-ho! Care to elaborate?_"

She looked at him a moment, her smirk slipping into a little smile, more to herself than to the people watching her. "_I won't name names,_" she hummed, "_But I will say that lately, I think I'd be lost without him_."

Kaoru watched, but couldn't help the tint that came to his face at her words, and when she looked to the camera, there was a split second when he felt like she could see him. Even the fact that nobody had told him that they would be on T.V. didn't bother him after that little statement.

The interview continued until close to midnight, when the countdown began, and everyone cried out merrily at the arrival of another year. Kaoru lolled his head to one side, eyes threatening to close, but too focused on the festivities within his television to actually allow himself to sleep.

It was unfortunate that their little moment via camera-to-cable box would be one of the last good times for a while.

As the next days passed, the media—only recently interested in the increasingly famous siblings—began scrambling for leads to the _Mysterious Romeo_; some even going so far as to declare a few rumors.

Kaoru and Izumi hadn't actually seen each other since Christmas, and not since August before that. The year before, it hadn't mattered; the Shigemiwa's weren't popular enough to gain much paparazzi attention until recently, so there was no need to worry. However, the last thing Izumi wanted was for Kaoru to be sucked under the train of fame with her, which meant keeping him out of magazines' scopes.

The first week of January passed, and Kaoru still hadn't spoken to Izumi since the day before he'd had the surprise of seeing her family on Bruce Fickle's show. Though it was obvious to him and Hikaru that the girls were trying to protect them, they were a little annoyed that it came with the expense of none of them ever having any contact. Even Hikaru, who had "broken up" with the older Shigemiwa twin just after the holidays, could admit that he wanted the two girls around again—though, he'd forever claim that it was for Kaoru's sake.

They were more than grateful for the distractions that came that week, first hearing from a jubilant Tamaki that he and Haruhi were expecting, and then receiving a letter shortly after, inviting them to the wedding of Ootori Kyouya and Houshakuji Renge.

* * *

It was more than usual, expected even, that on days when neither had prearranged business to attend to, Mori could be found sitting with Amelia on her couch, or being the helpless victim of her attempts at cooking. Even the horrible meals were worth the poorly masked look of pride that she wore when the dish didn't end up burned, or the first time she did her own laundry without incident, or the first time she did her own grocery shopping. It was amazing, really, how much she didn't know how to do, living the workless life that she had for the first twenty-three years of her life. Even more amazing was all of the things that Mori, himself, realized that _he_ had never actually learned to do for himself.

They were both unsure of when it first occurred to them that, regardless of financial position, a person should know how to cook their own meals, and do their own dishes, and pump their own gas, and vacuum their own floors, and much the way Amelia had thrown herself into the "commoner" lifestyle, Mori had decided to join her in learning all of these skills that people like Haruhi seemed to know from birth.

As part of their routine, they would take a moment once both were present to ask how each other's day had been, then they would start dinner—Amelia doing most of the work, due to their shared traditionalism. After eating, which sometimes meant enduring whatever it was that Amelia had prepared, they did dishes—and not even the traditional male-female roles stopped them from doing equal parts in the activity.

Once the work was done, they would sit together and rest, Amelia rarely bothering to check on Willard-Jones Publishing anymore. Throughout the night, with the exception of their initial meeting, neither would say more than a few words, and they were unarguably the quietest couple in all of Tokyo. Neither much cared for words, anyway, their shared glances and "accidental" brushes enough for the two of them. However, the peaceful silence of this night was disturbed by a pounding at Amelia's door.

She stood, hesitating near the couch until the pounding sounded again, causing the woman to begin a cautious stride to the door. When she got there, she reached for the doorknob, only to be stopped by Mori's hand on hers, as he pulled her back gently and stepped in front of her.

With his usual stoic gaze set forward, he turned the knob, allowing the door to open for their unexpected guests. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he opened the door, but the five men in dark suits that now stood before him was not it.

"_Miss Willard-Jones_," the front one said, speaking over Mori's shoulder to the woman that he had addressed, "_Your __**immediate**__ presence is requested in London_."

Amelia tensed visibly at the commanding tone in his voice. For a man with no authority to speak in such a way meant that the order had come _directly_ from the dreaded devil-woman herself, also known as Opal Willard-Jones, Amelia's mother.

"_Why, pray tell, might that be?_" She asked evenly, fighting back her lingering fear of the woman. She did well; Mori was the only one who caught it.

The ringleader of the group shot a glare at Mori, silently ordering that the man move, as he answered, "_I am not authorized to release any information to you_."

Mori stared back at the man, silently refusing to move, while Amelia gave a frustrated grunt behind him.

"_Tell my mother,_" she replied after a moment, "_That I thank her for her invitation, but I must refuse._"

"_I'm afraid that this isn't a __**request**__, it's an order_." With that, a lackey on either side of the man stepped forward, intent on forcing the woman out, causing Mori to move more protectively in front of her. At this point, everyone froze, a stare down starting up between Mori and the five men in the doorway.

Amelia observed the scene before her, calculating her next move carefully. These men were probably armed, that's just how her family did things, meaning that if Mori fought for her—and she knew he would—things could conceivably get very ugly, very quickly. She might have taken the chance if it had been just her, but the last thing she wanted was for Mori to get hurt trying to protect her.

Just as all of the men were about to begin fighting, Amelia stepped around Mori, placing a hand on his arm. "_I suppose I have no choice, then_," she relented, running another hand through her loose curls, "_Just let me get changed and grab a few things_."

The front man nodded, waving the rest of the men back outside as he stepped in to follow Amelia and wait outside her bedroom door. Mori also followed her, but didn't bother to wait outside.

"What's going on?" he asked, once he had closed the door behind him. He thought that they had threatened her, but perhaps his English had been off, and there had been some subtle kind of agreement between her and that man. He doubted this, of course, but it beat thinking that she would _willingly_ walk into the lion's den.

She paused, jeans halfway up her thighs, and looked over at him. "My mother wants me to come back for an undisclosed length of time, for reasons that I am not allowed to know until I get there," she explained, finishing pulling her jeans up and fastening them, before moving to pull on a burgundy sweater.

"And that doesn't bother you?"

She smiled wryly, "Of course it does, but I can't afford the consequences of disobeying _her ladyship_." She spat the last word venomously, accenting the sarcasm of the title.

He watched her go back to her drawers and pull out more clothes, stuffing them haphazardly into a suitcase, before going into the bathroom to collect her toiletries and toothbrush. He was certain that there was no need for her to pack those things, as they would surely have brand new things ready for her, making her attempt at procrastinating her departure all the more obvious. She would probably decide to repack her suitcase in a minute, as well.

She entered the room again a few minutes later, and as he had predicted, pulled her clothing out and began to fold everything neatly, repacking them in an exaggeratedly obsessive way. Even in the midst of their sudden predicament, he couldn't help a small smile that tugged at his lips as he watched her. She finally finished, realizing that if she took any longer, her delay would become obvious to the men waiting outside.

With a deep breath, she straightened, pulling her suitcase with her, as she took the few paces to stand eye-to-chin with him. Letting the luggage fall to the floor, she threw her arms around him, burying her face against his neck in a rare display of frailty.

"I'll miss you," she sighed shakily against him. She was pretending that she wasn't crying, but her voice gave her away.

He placed his hands on her arms, squeezing reassuringly. "No you won't," he replied, letting his mirth show for a quick moment at her questioning stare, "I'm going with you."

"But, you," she fumbled with her words for a second, the shock momentarily causing her to forget how to speak any kind of coherent language. When she finally remembered people-speak, she said pointedly, "They're not going to let you do that."

He shrugged, "Either I go, or you don't."

A stunned quietness overtook her in a way that only Mori could inspire. She believed him; either he would go with her, or she wouldn't go at all, and the relief that flooded her senses was such contrast to the original fear of going back to the Hell that was her mother's presence, that she found herself unable to choose between tears and laughter—so she did both.


	3. Chapter 3

**Darling**

**Chapter Three**

A private jet finally touched down at the Biggin Hill Airport at midnight. As Amelia and Mori stepped out, it became more and more noticeable to them that the place seemed deserted; at least until they were greeted by a flood of men in dark suits, matching their "escorts". The two of them were rushed along into the back of a black limousine, where they were greeted more formally.

As Mori situated himself, he looked across the open area of the limo at the woman across from him. She was a middle-aged woman with dark hair, a slightly hooked nose, and a kind smile. She wore a basic white button-down with a black skirt, giving him the impression that she only worked for the family, and wasn't a particularly rich woman. To his right, he heard Amelia speak.

"_The witch couldn't be bothered to receive us herself?_"

The woman across from them sighed, "_It's nice to see you, too, Amelia_."

"_Hello, Brooke. It's nice to see you after so long,_" Amelia relented, taking a sidelong glance at Mori, before returning her eyes to the woman, now dubbed Brooke. "_This is Takashi Morinozuka_."

Mori took a second to remind himself about the name order in western countries, as he nodded a greeting to Brooke.

The older woman bowed her head politely, "_Hello, Mr. Morinozuka. I am Brooke Hart_." She turned her attention back to Amelia after her exchange with Mori, "_I'm sure you're wondering why your mother has ordered your return so suddenly._"

Amelia resisted the urge to snort, "_Yes, actually._"

"_I haven't been told everything, but I'm aware that it's about your inherence_," she shifted a moment, crossing her right leg over her left before continuing. "_As you know, you were cut off a little more than a year ago. That was until your second cousin, the one that was named heir in your place, suddenly stepped down, unexpectedly._"

"_Why?_"

"_Nobody knows. All anyone knows right now, is that you and your cousin were the only ones left for the position, and now he's refusing._"

"_What does that have to do with me?_"

"_Well, you see… And you didn't hear this from me…_"

"_Of course not._"

With a nod at the reassurance, Brooke went on, "_I think that Ms. Willard-Jones suspects that you have something to do with it. Like you threatened or bribed him._"

"_That's ridiculous,_" barked Amelia, now taping her fingernails against the armrest irritably, "_I've been in Tokyo, minding my own business!_"

Brooke nodded sympathetically, listening patiently while Amelia listed all of the reasons why it was impossible that she had anything to do with it. "_I believe you, Amelia. One, because I trust you, and two, because I have a good idea of who __**did**__ do it._"

Amelia froze, eyes hardening, "_Who?_"

"_You have an appointment to speak to your mother at ten o'clock tomorrow_," Brooke explained, ignoring the question, "_Before then, I suggest you make a visit to your __**father**__._"

* * *

Tamaki fidgeted incessantly, causing Haruhi to looked over at him and heave an exasperated sigh.

"Calm down, Senpai," she said, reaching to touch his arm reassuringly. They were almost to the station closest to the apartment that she had shared with her father throughout her childhood, where they would get off the train and walk the rest of the way to her father's home.

Tamaki took a deep breath in an attempt to obey the woman's suggestion, but found himself only getting more worked up. Haruhi didn't understand; she'd be safe no matter what, but Tamaki… He cringed as thoughts of what the cross-dresser would do to him when he found out about the pregnancy.

First, he'd be angry about the actual fact, and punch him in the face. Then he'd realize that they had waited nearly two weeks to tell him, and he'd kick Tamaki in the head! After that, Ranka would fetch a butcher knife and attempt to castrate Tamaki, but the doorbell would ring suddenly, and one of his co-workers would be there, returning a borrowed pair of shoes. Ranka would then tell his fellow transvestite about Haruhi, and the shoes would promptly be thrown at Tamaki in rage. Then both of the men in dresses would collaborate to throw Tamaki out the second story window. To which Haruhi (who wasn't going to be included in the scenario, but we find we can't do without her) would roll her eyes and comment on how ridiculous they were all acting, and then go into the kitchen to make tea for herself, while Tamaki fell to his death!

Of course, this scenario was best-case, and Tamaki shuddered again as a new set of violent acts flooded his mind while he imagined the worst-case.

Haruhi watched her companion throw his head back in agony at his own imagination, rolling her eyes and setting about collecting her things in preparation for their stop. _What a drama queen…_

* * *

Renge puffed out her cheeks, annoyed with her own lack of willpower. She could be endlessly stubborn against others, but her own fantasies were too much for her to fight against. Much to her displeasure, her eyes roamed back over to the beautiful, beaded white silk and lace that had just been delivered that morning, and she nearly drooled at the sight of it. She had no idea what it was lined with, but whatever it was had felt heavenly against her skin when she had had her first two fittings (one to see what adjustments were in order, the second to see that it still fit properly after it was tailored).

With a disheartened sigh, she flopped back onto her bed, scowling moodily at the ceiling. It was a ten-thousand dollar dress, and she wasn't even allowed to _look_ at it too forcefully until her wedding, which was a whole month away! This, however, put a smile on her face. At least she had gotten her way on the date: February fourteenth, Valentine's day.

She had had to do a bit of arguing with their fathers, who had insisted that a spring wedding would have been better, but in the end, the final decision had been up to Kyouya, who for reasons unknown to Renge, had agreed to name the date as Renge desired.

The reason, which—as said before—was unknown to Renge, was that Kyouya didn't much care if it was spring wedding or not, and was mostly just glad that he had managed to get Renge to settle for a small orchestra, rather than the kind of entertainment that Natsumi-san had so insisted on.

But—as said twice before, now—Renge was unaware of that, and her mind drifted once more to the many yards of beautiful white fabric, locked inside a glass case, which was not to be opened until the day of her wedding. She could feel her resolve breaking down, though, and she bit her lip against the urge to throw the case open and don the flowing gown. Like a child to a cookie jar, her eyes shifted to it over and over, nearly driving her mad.

_This is ridiculous!_ she scolded herself, _I am an adult, and I will act accordingly._

However, no more than ten seconds later, the threw her legs over the side of her bed, which she had been laying haphazardly across, and stalked toward the glass case, eyeing the prize inside like a predator. Her hand moved for the latch, fingers brushing gently over the chrome handle. One little twist, and it would open, and then she could _feel_ her dress in her hands, against her skin. She held back a moan at the thought, but didn't notice the bit of drool that went unchecked. Inside the case, the gown beckoned to her, _'Renge… Renge… Put me on, Renge. Feel my velvety goodness…'_

Come to think of it, the whole scenario was a little scary, but Renge ignored her own insanity, choosing to pretend that having clothing speak to you was a normal occurrence in many people's lives. Too late to turn back now, she finally applied the necessary pressure to the handle, forcing the shiny, little bar down, the latch on the inside lifting accordingly. With a little tug, the glass door would swing open easily, and luxury would be in her grasp.

And then her phone rang, causing her to snap out of her trance with a jolt. Embarrassed with her own actions, and more than thankful that no one had been around to see it, she slinked toward her desk, where she had earlier tossed her cell phone, too distracted by the demon-dress to do much else.

_It's Kyouya_, she thought, surprised, as she read the caller ID. With a flick of her wrist, she flipped the phone open in one motion, holding the tiny device to her ear.

"Moshi-moshi," she greeted.

"Renge," he said, getting straight to the point in a very Kyouya-like way, "I'm calling to make sure that you aren't touching the dress."

"Of course I'm not touching the dress!" she snapped, face reddening in further embarrassment that she had been so predictable. "I'm not a child, Kyouya."

"As you say, Renge," he replied, not hinting as to whether he believed her or not, and moving on quite gracefully. "Are you free for dinner?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, knowing what was coming. He'd take her to some fancy business party, where there would be many middle-aged men in suits, with beautiful dates, half their age. She sighed, knowing that he couldn't very well go without her, but honestly _hating_ how cutthroat all of the smiling men they encountered were—then again, she was with the most smiley cutthroat of them all.

"Good," he said, "I've reserved a place for us at the new French restaurant, so I'll be there to get you at seven." Renge paused, blinking at the phone like it would offer her some answers.

Realizing that it _wouldn't_ she stammered, "W-what?"

"I said, I'll pick you up at seven."

"But, you mean," she asked slowly, trying to comprehend, "We're _not_ going to some stuffy ballroom to mingle with balding sharks?" Now it was Kyouya's turn to blink at his phone.

"No, Renge," he answered calmly, "It will just be the two of us."

She resisted squealing fan-girlishly, instead saying goodbye to him and hanging up like a normal adult, before she allowed the otaku within to run free. "I can't believe it," she shrieked happily, jumping up to bounce on her bed giddily, "A real date! And I didn't even have to pester him for it!"

Hugging her fluffy flower pillow to her chest, she reached for her phone, hitting four on her speed-dial and waiting for a ring.

* * *

Haruhi fished a key from her pocket, letting her and Tamaki into her father's apartment. "Dad will be home in about ten minutes, so we'll just wait for him inside," she said to Tamaki, finally twisting the knob and pulling the door open.

On a roof across the street, a bird squawked, causing Tamaki to jump about three feet in the air. "Ah," he called, chasing after the woman who had left him behind, "Haruhi, wait for me!" Wandering into the room, he sat rigidly at the table, staring at the furniture like he expected it to attack him.

"Senpai?"

"Ah!" He spun around to face her, clutching his hands over his head, but soon realized how odd his behavior was, and did his best to sit normally. "Y-yes, Haruhi? What is it?"

"I asked if you wanted tea," she repeated, "Seeing as how you're acting so stressed…"

He jumped up, suddenly the steadfast boyfriend, "I can't allow you to strain yourself, Haruhi. I'll make the tea!" With that, he darted into the kitchen, only to poke his head back into the room with her, "Where's the teapot, again?"

With a sigh, she followed him into the kitchen, fully prepared to show him, _once again_, how to prepare "commoner's" tea.

As they were finishing up, Haruhi felt her pocket vibrate. She pulled out her phone and looked at the picture of Renge striking a pose from some anime that Haruhi wasn't familiar with, flipping it open a second later.

"Renge?"

"Haruhi-chan!" The girl on the other end practically screamed, nearly causing poor, unsuspecting Haruhi's ears to bleed, "You'll never guess what just happened!"

"…"

"Well," prompted Renge, "Go on, guess!" Haruhi sipped her tea as she and Tamaki made their way back into the sitting area.

Setting her cup down on the table, she responded, "You said that I wouldn't be able to—"

"Kyaa! Kyouya asked me out on a real date!" Renge interrupted, not bothering to care about Haruhi's previous semi-sarcastic reply.

"Oh, that's good, I guess."

"Good?! It's absolutely wonderful! Well, I'm sure you're busy, but I just _had_ to tell my best friend all about it. Well, I'll see you later. Ja!" With that, the eccentric girl hung up, not bothering to wait for Haruhi's answer.

"What was that about?" asked Tamaki, tapping his fingers against the table nervously.

Haruhi rolled her eyes, "Apparently Kyouya-senpai asked Renge out. I guess it's a big deal for her."

"Of course it's a big deal," Tamaki said, pumping a fist into the air, "The love of a bridegroom is something to cherish, but in Kyouya's case, it is a rarity, making it all the more valuable!" Fires of romance began to burn in Tamaki's eyes as he continued with his rant, which Haruhi had stopped listening to about two sentences in. Tamaki's train of thought was only derailed when the door opened, and in walked Fujioka Ryouji/Ranka.

The transvestite put his bag on the floor as he slipped his shoes off, sitting with the couple once he had finished. "Haruhi," he said, accepting the third cup of tea that was offered to him, "What was it that you needed to tell me?" He seemed a bit worried, but looking at her, she seemed okay, so what could be so important that she had insisted on telling him face-to-face?

"Otou-san," Haruhi said, smiling reassuringly at her father, and getting ready for her overly-blunt way of doing things. "I'm pregnant," she said finally, not thinking anything of it as she just came right out and said it. Both men sat frozen, Ranka staring at his daughter blankly, Tamaki clutching his hands underneath the table, preparing for the beat-down that was to come.

After the longest ten seconds of any of their lives, Ranka stood, moving around the table to kneel in front of Haruhi. In one swift motion, he had pulled her against him in a gentle hug.

Tamaki stared once more, shocked that he still hadn't been pulverized, as he watched the man embrace his daughter so tenderly. But why hadn't he said anything to criticize their irresponsibility at allowing it to happen so unexpectedly? Why hadn't he gotten mad at Tamaki for doing this to his daughter?

When her father pulled away from her, Haruhi continued, "We plan to be married, but not for another couple months, at least."

"We do?" Tamaki asked, not meaning it as cold-heartedly as it had sounded. He was mostly shocked because Haruhi hadn't accepted any of his marriage proposals.

"Of course we are," she said, "Just because I didn't want the big, fancy rings, doesn't mean that I didn't want _you_."

"Oh, Haruhi!" he cried, tears of joy running down his face, as he glomped her from the side that Ranka wasn't currently inhabiting.

He only snapped away from her, blushing, when he heard Ranka clear his throat. "So," the man in drag said, "When is it due?"

"In August," Haruhi replied, ignoring the way her boyfriend fidgeted behind her.

Ranka smiled, clapping once in pleasure, "I'm going to be a grandpa… Is it a boy or a girl?"

"I have an appointment on March third," Haruhi answered, "They should be able to tell the gender then."

Ranka hugged Haruhi once more, "Oh, I'm so happy!"

"You mean," Tamaki asked fearfully, "You aren't mad?"

"Not at Haruhi," the man responded, sending Tamaki a glare that lacked fire. "But," he added, "I guess I can't be too angry at you…"

"Oh, thank you, Otou-san!" Tamaki yelled excitedly, only to be hit in the head by Ranka.

"Who are you calling 'otou-san', Baka?!" And with this, Tamaki shrank into his corner of woe, while Ranka continued to fuss over Haruhi's health and ask unanswerable questions about her unborn baby.

* * *

Amelia groaned, rolling over for the hundredth time that night, unable to sleep. With a sigh, she sat up, putting her head in her hands in frustration. Even in the slight light, she could see Mori watching her out of the corner of her eye.

"Sorry if I'm keeping you up," she said, voice muffled by her palms, which her mouth was buried against. He sat up as well, stretching his arms out and then sitting in a similar fashion to how she was, minus the annoyed face-plant.

"I don't fall asleep before you," he said, as if it would explain _anything_.

She looked at him. "You do that on purpose?"

He only nodded slightly, shifting his eyes around the dim room. This was, apparently, the room that had belonged to Amelia during her childhood. It was strange, seeing this part of her life; a part that he'd had nothing to do with. And to think that she had given it all up, and now lived in a condo that was the overall size of just this one room. And for what? Freedom? To work for herself? To make her own horrible meals? …For him?

He scowled at the thought. He certainly hoped that there had been more reason to give up such a lifestyle than just him—and his rational side reminded him that while he may have been one reason, the biggest reason had been the spineless Beresford creature that she had been engaged to.

Amelia didn't see his scowl in the darkness, but could tell that his eyes were sweeping over the room over and over, as if he was trying to burn it into his mind. "Such fond memories," she said bitterly, gesturing to the area at the foot of the bed, "That's where I got this." She ran a thumb tenderly over the slightly raised scar that marred her left wrist. She had a similar scar on her right wrist, but that had been a separate attempt altogether.

Mori didn't actually know any of the specifics of her suicide attempts, as she didn't seem too keen on telling him, and he honestly didn't want to bring it up. The idea that she had not only been hurt by **him**, but had resorted to hurting herself _because_ of **him** made Mori's blood boil—which nobody would know just by looking at him, but it was still there under his stoic expression.

Amelia noticed it, though—all of their time together giving her the ability to read him as well as Mitsukuni could—and she reached toward him to run a delicate hand down his arm affectionately.

"Ignore me," she said, "This place just makes me tense. It's no reason for my bad attitude to cause you distress." He looked at her, heat flashing through his eyes, and before she knew it, she was on her back below him, pinned but not feeling at all threatened by him. Even though he could easily break her at any moment, she felt safe, and they both knew she was just that.

His mouth descended upon hers, cutting off all thought for either of them as all they could feel were lips and caresses from the other. It didn't matter; neither would get any sleep tonight, anyway.

* * *

Hikaru stared at the phone in front of him, debating on the best course of action. He knew that if he didn't do it, Kaoru would continue to be depressed, and nothing would ever get done. On the other hand, it wasn't like _he_ cared if he never saw either of those troublesome girls again, so why should he bother?

He looked at the phone again, seemingly expectant of it to give him the answer. When it didn't advise him one way or the other, he glared at it like the traitor it was. It expected him to make his own choices?!

He couldn't even asked Kaoru, because Kaoru would tell him to leave it alone, being the kind of person Kaoru was. But he couldn't count on Izumi to make the first call, because she was emotionally retarded. The whole situation had Hikaru running a frustrated hand through already tussled hair. It would all send him to an early grave, he was almost sure of it.

With a deep breath, he finally reached for his phone, flipping it open and glaring at the buttons inside. Nimble fingers dialed regardless of his irritation, and it only took a moment for him to hear a voice on the other line.

"_Hello?_"

Hikaru furrowed a brow, willing himself to speak to the evil woman on the other end, "Hey, I need to talk to you…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Darling**

**Chapter 4**

Amelia picked imaginary lint from her skirt, a habit which she hadn't practiced since she had begun living in Tokyo, Mori noticed. Did seeing her parents really make her that nervous?

She was always well dressed, but today, her outfit seemed more put together than usual, more elegant. And _expensive_. She hadn't worn anything so high-end in more than a year, which could only add to her unease. Still, she decided, looking back down at her feminine suit, Brooke had chosen well, as always.

Her eyes snapped up when the door before them clicked, and out stepped Brooke, herself. "_He'll see you now_," the woman informed them, stepping out of the way.

With a deep breath, Amelia led the way into her father's office, Mori following silently. The room was a deep green, with mahogany bookshelves lining the right wall, and a sturdy but comfy-looking sofa faced a faux-fireplace with a flat screen television mounted above it on the opposite wall. In the center of the room was a mahogany desk that matched the bookshelves, and on the more public side of the desk sat two chairs, which matched the sofa on the left side of the room. The desk, however, was surprisingly empty.

The mad behind the desk leaned with his chin on his palm, his elbow on the desk, as he surveyed them lazily. "_About time some entertainment came along,_" he said, slouching back into his chair. He was an older man, looking to be about the same age as his wife, though where the woman had Botox to smooth out her features, the man had frown lines on either side of his mouth and at the outsides of his eyes.

"_Father,_" Amelia scolded gently, still keeping her head down obediently, "_This isn't a game._"

"_Oh, come now, Amelia,_" he snorted, sounding amused, but not snowing any sign of it on his bored face, "_Life's a game._" He spun his chair to the side, standing, and Mori could instantly see where Amelia got her height; the man was about as tall as Mori, give or take a few centimeters. "_Thank you for coming on such short notice,_" he said, coming to stand a good ten feet from the couple.

"_Mother ordered it,_" Amelia reminded her father, "_I didn't have much of a choice._"

"_Yes,_" he nodded, moving to examine the knickknacks on his mantle nonchalantly, "_It is so hard for one to get an audience with one's own daughter without one's wife finding out._" He sat on his sofa, then, facing away from them, "_Even harder to find something to annoy one's wife enough to call said daughter back home._"

"_I figured you had something to do with it._"

"_It's not my fault,_" the man dismissed, waving a hand over his shoulder, "_She is the money-spinner among us, and I am but a humble soldier, who got lucky enough to marry her._"

"_Father, you weren't ever a soldier,_" Amelia corrected him, annoyed that he was dancing around the subject so palpably, "_You dealt guns on the black market, and I don't want to know what else…_"

"_Surely that wasn't meant as disrespectfully as your tone sounded,_" he turned to her, quirking an eyebrow, face otherwise unreadable.

She looked away sheepishly, only to look back at him in realization, "_So what if it was? You and mother no longer have any power over me._" Mori could have sworn he saw the man's lip twitch upward, but a millisecond later, the expression was gone, and the look of idle indifference was back in place.

"_Will you tell me now, why you wanted me home so badly?_" she asked, then, growing more impatient.

"_Ah, I almost forgot_," he said in a way that told them that he hadn't even come close to forgetting, as he got up and went back to his side of the desk, pressing some numbers on a keypad until a high-pitched beep sounded, and he pulled the top drawer open. "_This,_" he said, extending a manila envelope toward her, "_Is for you—should you choose to accept it._"

"_What's this?_" She pulled the documents out, looking over them carefully, before lifting her gaze to her father to ask, "_Are these what I think they are?_"

"_Those are the documents to my shares of Willard-Jones Publishing. It's yours if you want it._" He didn't give her a chance to answer before he was off on the next thing. "_I never liked Isaac much_," the man confessed in a very un-confessional kind of way, "_He was a terrible shot_."

Amelia flipped through the papers, finally opening her mouth to say something, but was interrupted when her father continued to yammer on.

"_Do you shoot?_" he asked, turning to Mori, shaking his head a moment later, "_Or, perhaps I should ask in Japanese… _Shooting are you? …_No, that's not right…_"

Amelia sighed, also turning her attention to Mori, "Did you catch that, or would you like me to translate?"

"_No, I understand,_" Mori answered, "_I do not shoot, sir._"

"_A pity,_" the man said, continuing to lack any emotion outside of apathy, "_Amelia is quite the marksman—er, woman, or didn't you know?_"

"_I was unaware._"

She huffed indignantly, "_I never enjoyed the shooting range, Father_."

"_But you were good at it. And your brother—_"

Amelia bristled, "_Don't! I'm not him, so don't compare us._"

He ignored her, dropping the subject, but still moving steadily forward in conversation. Attention still on Mori, he offered his right hand, "_By the way, I am George Harding. Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier._"

Mori shook George's hand with a nod, "_I am Takashi Morinozuka._" It felt, well, _foreign_ to say it like that, but it would cause less confusion in the long run, Mori decided. He might have to ask Amelia about the difference in surname at a later time, though.

"_Well, Mr. Morinozuka,_" George dully went on, still seeming as bored as he had since their arrival, "_I'd like to see what kind of a shot you are before you return to Japan, if you wouldn't mind._"

"_I'm sure he…_" Amelia tried to decline, but Mori was already answering.

"_Not at all,_" he said, sensing the challenge behind it.

"_Good, then,_" the older man turned away from them, moving back toward his empty desk, "_Well, must dash; you know how it is. I'm sure you can both find your way out…?_"

"_Yes, Father, goodbye_." With that, Amelia turned and led Mori back out to the large hallway, where Brooke was still waiting.

"_Should I file those for you, Amelia?_" she asked, trying to hide her smile behind her hand. Amelia handed the papers over, but not without giving her childhood caretaker an incredulous look.

"_You knew all about this all along,_" she accused the brunette.

"_Well, yes, but it has to remain hush-hush until it's gone through, so I couldn't just tell you about it,_" Brooke gave her former charge a motherly smile, "_I'm sorry._"

"_How do you intend to put it through without my mother's knowing?_"

"_I handle massive amounts of her paperwork every day,_" Brooke answered, shifting the stack of papers to her left arm so that she could look at the pager on her hip, "_It won't be too hard to slip these in. I have to go, her highness summons me._"

"_You'll be fired for it, Brooke_."

"_I know,_" she answered, giving Amelia a reassuring smile over her shoulder as she walked away, "_But it's for the greater good. Not a word of this to your mother, now, okay?_"

Amelia nodded, though the answer was obvious. It would do everyone more harm than good if she told Opal about their little scheme, so as Brooke had said, it all had to stay "hush-hush" until after things had gone through. Now remembering something else, she turned to Mori.

"Why did you accept to go with him?"

Mori raised an eyebrow in a very, 'is there a reason I shouldn't have?' manner, but made no move to actually say anything.

"The man is a sadist," Amelia continued, "He never smiles unless there's something suffering in front of him." She took in the look he gave her with a sigh, "Yes, _everyone_ in my family is crazy."

Mori took her hand in his, as the couple began the walk to Amelia's mother's office. "You don't have to be worried about me," he said, now understanding that she wasn't angry at him, just concerned that her insane father would get him killed.

"Not with my father, anyway," she commented, eyes fixed on the elevator ahead, "My mother, however, is another story." The top floor of the elevator opened right to the waiting area outside her mother's office, where a receptionist sat. The two of them were nearly twenty minutes, early, but found that there wasn't enough time to leave and come back, so they'd be better off waiting.

Her mother's current secretary was not one that Amelia recognized. Apparently her last had been fired in a fit of paranoia, just as many of the women before her had been. The new secretary, it seemed, didn't recognize Amelia, either, judging by the sneer she gave the blonde. Or perhaps Amelia was no longer a respected figure among Opal's employees. _Either way, this woman will _learn_ to recognize and respect me_, Amelia thought spitefully, leveling the haughty receptionist with a glare (which might have been comparable to one of Kyouya's evil looks).

Looking away hurriedly, the secretary finally picked up her phone and presses one of the top buttons. After a moment, she said, "_Ma'am, your ten o'clock is here_." Then, after she had hung up, she waved a hand at the couple, "_You may sit until she's ready._"

Amelia gave the woman one last look before taking a seat, her stoic companion sitting beside her.

And now, all they could do was wait.

* * *

Hikaru had to work quite hard to do it, but the words finally left his mouth, "Hey, I need to talk to you…"

She sounded surprised, "To me?"

"Why else would I call your phone?!"

"Psh! Will you relax?" she replied snippily, "I was just making sure. I thought you might have misdialed; maybe you were calling to beg Minori to take you back…?" He glared at nothing in particular, but pretended that he was glaring at her.

"Damn, I still hate you," he muttered.

Her flippant response was, "Mutual, Hikaru." They were both silent until she spoke again.

"Wow, Hikaru," she observed, "For someone who 'needs to talk to me', you sure aren't saying much…"

"What is _wrong_ with you?!" he yelled, suddenly letting loose on behalf of his brother, who had been brooding for the last couple weeks. "First, you say something like _that_ about Kaoru on TV, and then you suddenly don't have the time for him?! It makes me wonder how much you really care…"

"Oh, will you shut up? I can't really talk to him while the stupid tabloids are on a manhunt. You guys get enough exposure with your own lifestyles, and you don't need my extra stuff on your shoulders. You guys would be pegged as incestuous, homo, perverts right away, what with that damn 'brotherly love' crap you guys do."

"Minori likes it," Hikaru pointed out.

"Minori's an idiot!"

There was an indignant "Hey!" in the background, which would have made Hikaru smile if his mouth wasn't set in such a grim line.

"Anyway," Hikaru went on, "Don't you think that you should let _Kaoru_ decide if he doesn't want the exposure? I know I'm not good at this kind of thing, but I think you need to either be with him, or let him go. At this rate, you're just hurting him."

There was a pregnant silence between them, as Izumi looked at her lap guiltily. She really hadn't considered it possible that her decision would hurt Kaoru; she had so thoroughly convinced herself that she was doing the right thing for both of them.

"You're not always right, Izumi. Talk to him," and with that, Hikaru hung up, leaving Izumi to press her phone to her ear dumbly, feeling like an almighty jerk.

* * *

Haninozuka Mitsukuni spent most of his days in his family's dojo, and the time that wasn't spent there was, more often than not, invested in the eating of cake. He was especially lonely today, though, with his wife doing extra work of her own in her studio, and his cousin off in another country.

"Would you like some more, Usa-chan?" he asked, knowing that he wouldn't get a response, but the deafening silence that surrounded him was slowly driving him mad. "I can't wait until Natsu-chan gets home, and Takashi comes back," Mitsukuni commented to the stuffed bunny, finishing off his fifth piece, while the rabbit, unsurprisingly, still had yet to touch its first. He was silently thankful for the distraction when a maid came into the room, bowing deeply, before extending the home phone toward him.

"It's an emergency," was all she offered at the questioning look he gave her, so he carefully placed the piece of molded plastic filled with wires to his face, giving a little greeting to let the caller know that he was there.

"Haninozuka-san?"

"Yes?" answered Hunny, not really knowing what to expect from the voice on the other end of the line. He certainly didn't recognize it.

The man seemed to sigh in relief, "Good, good. I've been trying to contact Natsumi-san, but it seems I have the wrong number for her. I'm afraid that Makuno-sama has suddenly become very ill."

Hunny's eyes widened, "How ill?"

"Deathly, it would seem at this point," the man answered, "She is being kept alive via life-support, but as medical power of attorney, and next of kin, we need Natsumi-san's orders on what should be done."

From that point, Hunny gave the man Natsumi's private number, and awaited news from his wife. In no more than fifteen minutes, Natsumi came rushing into the room with him, clearly very upset.

"Mitsukuni," she sobbed, practically throwing herself onto him, "Okaa-san is… Oh, Mitsukuni!" He had been expecting this reaction from her, but that didn't make her tears any easier to watch. He felt his stomach clench at the sight of her, and his heart leapt up into his throat, making it difficult to form words. This was his usual reaction to seeing her upset, the intensity only varied on how miserable she seemed to be.

"It's alright, Natsu-chan," he said, stroking her hair, "Everything is going to be alright." Of course, there was no way for him to know that all truly would end well, but it seemed to calm her, regardless.

She sniffled, "Mitsukuni, I have to go to her. I don't think… I might not be able to…" The words died out, their speaker unable to finish them through desperate sadness, but their meaning was clear: she had to see her mother, because this could very well be the last time.

"Okay, Natsu-chan," he nodded, still petting her hair affectionately, "We'll leave tonight." He then asked that their bags be packed and a car be prepared for them.

As a maid led Natsumi to the washroom to get her cleaned up (she still had paint on her), Hunny looked at the table where his half-eaten cake was. This whole ordeal had made him lose his appetite, and he was sure that it wouldn't be back any time soon.

* * *

Amelia and Mori found themselves standing in the middle of Opal Willard-Jones' spacious office. It was more than twice the size of her husband's office, but it was decorated in a colder, more modern style. Everything was either chrome, black leather, or clear plastic. Three of the four walls were made up of floor-to-ceiling windows; the fourth wall which had the doorway in it, was tall and wide, and painted a crisp white. Unlike her husband's office, Opal's office had only one chair, which was the one she sat in.

The elder woman sat in the lone chair, tapping away at her keyboard, eyes trained on the computer screen. She was making it very clear that she was ignoring them, which was her way of reminding them that they were currently powerless against her, especially now that they had entered her domain.

Amelia, while still not quite brave enough to confront her mother directly, moved rightward to the wall of glass, looking out at the view indifferently. Opal barely looked at the girl out of the corner of her eye, before picking up her phone and asking that lunch be ordered for her, still pretending not to notice either presence in the room. And like this, the two women continued their passive aggressive battle of wills, each trying to goad the other into being the first to speak.

Eventually, Amelia, having less to occupy herself with than her mother, turned an annoyed glare toward the woman. "_I believe that __**you're**__ the one that asked me to come,_" she said, trying to mask her wounded pride, "_If you refuse to speak, then I see no reason for you to have so rudely interrupted my other plans_." Okay, so Amelia hadn't had any other plans, but her mother didn't know that.

Opal smirked at her victory, turning her spinning office chair away from the screen in order to look at Amelia. The joy, however gloating that joy was, was gone from her face a moment later.

"_I take it you've been well, Amelia._"

The blonde rolled her eyes to herself, but didn't let her mother catch it, "_Please spare me the formalities. You've already practically kidnapped me, so I see no point in acting like this is a casual visit, now of all times._"

"_If you're impatient, Amelia, just say so_."

"_Not impatient, Mother. Just annoyed._"

"_I was not trying to bore you, only trying to catch up. I must ask, though, why you abandoned your __**family**__? Am I to believe that you did it for independence and freedom, when all you've done is transferred your dependency onto another family?_" Opal glanced at Mori pointedly, and then shifted her gaze back to her monitor, clicking her mouse a few times. "_It says here,_" she said, eyes scanning horizontally, showing that she was reading, "_That you live in a home that is owned by the Morinozuka family, but you pay no fee to live there. You also work in a building that is owned by the Ootori Group, the position being requested for you by the youngest of the three sons._"

"_Though I am grateful for what I've been given, I never asked for their help,_" Amelia ground out, trying to stay calm without going back into the submissive role that she had played up until almost two years ago. She was trying to be stronger, but against her mother, her bravery seemed to dwindle.

"_In any case, you're nothing more than a poorer version of what you were before: a woman with nothing but her looks to get her by, relying on the charity of others to get what she needs while she bides her time until a wealthy heir marries her,_" Opal gave another look to Mori, then to Amelia, as if daring either of them to challenge her statement.

Amelia looked to the ground, unable to argue with what her mother had said. While a few minor facts weren't right, it didn't change the fact that she was, indeed, a woman who used her pretty face to keep her job in Tokyo—a job which had been a gift of goodwill to her from Ootori Kyouya—and lived in a home which had been bought specifically as a handout for her. She was by no means a gold digger, though, and the fact that her mother thought of her as such was more revolting than she could describe.

"Do you see?" Opal asked in Japanese, standing and walking toward Mori. "You can't really trust her. You'll always have that doubt that comes with marrying below you. And I'm sure you have your own family to consider. Why, what about your parents' wishes?"

Mori remained impassive the whole time, but couldn't help but wonder how this whole thing had turned around to him. The only problem with what Opal was saying to him was the fact that he truly had no doubt in his mind about Amelia's motives. He knew that she wasn't using him to get ahead in life; she probably didn't even think that he would stay with her much longer. She had taken his father's words very seriously, when the older man had explained to her the harsh reality of her position. He had basically called her his son's whore until a suitable bride could be found.

"This can't be what you called me here to talk about," the blonde stepped in irritably, before her mother could continue on her tirade, "_Either say what you meant to say, or let me go home._"

"_Actually, this is exactly what I brought you here for. You don't honestly think that I don't know that it was George who threatened Phillip. I doubt you even know who Phillip __**is**__—he's your second cousin, by the way. The one who was going to inherit in your place. A snake in the grass if you ask me,_" Opal grimaced at the thought of him, but continued shortly after, "_And your father doesn't know just how transparent he is. I don't know why he wanted you here so badly, but whatever it was, I'm sure it was juvenile and altogether pointless._"

Opal paused, perhaps to allow her daughter the chance to elaborate on George's behalf, but the younger woman offered no such explanation, and Opal took this as her cue to continue ranting.

"_The funny thing is,_" she began, "_For all of the responsibility that I place on Brooke as a personal assistant, I don't really trust her. I can't. And you…_" She trailed of turning to look out the window. After a moment of reverie, she let out a bitter laugh, "_Even as my heir, I never trusted you. It has always been a simple matter for you to take everything from me. An accident—nothing that could ever be linked back to you—and I would be dead. The human life is fragile, after all. I honestly expected that you'd attempt to have me killed before you'd try to end your own life._"

And suddenly, even with all of the disdain she felt for her mother, Amelia could feel a wave of pity wash over her for the woman. Opal was truly alone in the world; she had no friends outside of the people who only wanted her money, and a family that would stab her in the back if she gave any of them the chance. Amelia had felt pitiful and alone all her life, but she had always had Brooke, who was willing to throw her career away just to help Amelia, without any promise of personal gain.

"_Mother,_" Amelia eventually said, realizing that the silence between them was meant to be filled by her own thoughts on the matter. This was the closest thing to a real heart-to-heart than she had ever had with any member of her family.

"_I can see where you might get an idea like that,_" Amelia managed, having been completely unprepared for this when she had been waiting outside the office, "_But I'm not like you. I'm not like Father. I don't wish to harm people for money; I'd sooner subject myself to a life of fighting for my meals than hurt someone in order to take what they've got. I'm better than that, and until I went to Tokyo, I never realized it. But now I'm certain that even though I may not be particularly smart, or brave, or strong, or even amiable, I…_" Amelia swallowed, thinking of how she wanted to word her statement to best convey her feelings, "_I deserve better than what I was being offered by my so-called __**family**__._" Opal watched Amelia, face set in a frown and eyes slowly misting over.

"_So you really have no desire to come back?_"

"_No, Mother_."

Opal turned her face away quickly, focusing on the glass before her, but not actually seeing anything, and said, "_Leave. Get out of my office now!_" She whirled around to glare at the couple, masking pain with anger, "_The jet will be prepared for you tomorrow morning, and you will board it __**immediately**__. Go back to the pathetic existence you've oh-__**so**__ rightfully earned, and be out of my sight forever._"

Amelia's heart clenched. She had never seen her mother cry (or on the verge of tears, as she was now). Opal was not a woman who accepted weakness of the heart, being raised in such a way that she would be thrown to the wolves at the first sign of it. She tried to come up with something to say, but was stopped when her mother demanded once more that she leave, and then Mori's hand was gently on her elbow, prompting her out of the room.

The two left the office, brushing by the rude secretary like she wasn't there, and boarding the elevator silently. The ride was long, coming down from the uppermost floor, but they still didn't say anything. At least, not until the eighth floor, when Amelia brought a hand up to rest over her eyes as her shoulders slumped and began to shake with silent sobs.

She had never had a good relationship with her mother, but now, it felt as if she had lost the slim chance of ever having one; like she had watched the woman die before her eyes. Perhaps the worst part was seeing her mother act as a human for once, just barely giving her a glimpse of what kind of a woman she might have been if circumstances had allowed them to be mother and daughter instead of the unspoken enemies that they had always been.

Mori watched her soundlessly crying on the other side of the large elevator. Things should have been better now; her mother would never come between them, and with the gift that her father had given her, she might not be an heiress, but she now had enough money to support herself comfortably and never have to work again. With this new development, his father would have fewer objections to them being together. This should have been a time of relief.

But, looking at Amelia, it obviously wasn't. The girl would not make the futile attempt to repair the estranged relationships that had always existed between her and her parents, but that couldn't stop her from mourning the loss of the 'maybe someday' that used to be there.

Making up his mind, he pushed the emergency stop button somewhere between the second and first floors, and moved to her side of the elevator, taking her into his arms. He never liked public displays of affection, but it was obvious that she needed some reassurance—which was exactly what he intended to give her.

"You did the right thing," he murmured, feeling her shaking subside. She, for all her forward progress on becoming a better person in the last year and a half, was still the sort of person who needed to be validated in nearly every decision that she made. She had always been like that, and she would probably always be like that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Darling**

**Chapter 5**

In two hours, Hunny and Natsumi were at a hospital in Kyoto, speaking to Makuno's doctor. The man was middle-aged and in the beginning stages of balding, with a grim face, but sympathetic eyes.

"Your mother has suffered a cerebral aneurysm—or a brain aneurysm," he explained, producing a chart from one of his office drawers. He began pointing to places on the chart and telling them about how it had effected Makuno's brain. "It's located near the very center of her brain, which gives us less options than most cases would," he said, setting the chart down and folding his hands in front of him.

Natsumi blinked back tears, trying to be strong, "S-so… What _are_ our options, then?"

"We can do surgery," he said, "But there's only a thirty-four percent chance that she would survive the surgery itself. If, by some miracle, she did live through the procedure, she would only have a few years to live, and she would spend those years in a vegetative state." Natsumi's frown deepened. Those weren't good odds, and even if the odds were with them, her mother would gain nothing from it.

"Your other option," he went on, "Is to… let her go, if you will." Natsumi sat silently, staring at her lap, mulling it over.

"It would be selfish of me to keep her alive like that," she muttered to herself, before looking up at the doctor and asking, "May I see her before I decide what to do, Sensei?" The doctor nodded to her, standing to lead them to Makuno's room.

They took the elevator to the intensive care unit, where they went down a labyrinth of halls until they stopped in front of an open door. The lights were dimmed and a body lay on the bed, hooked up to a number of machines.

Natsumi approached the hospital bed slowly, unable to believe that this fragile-looking woman could possibly be the spunky old lady that was her adopted mother. Hunny followed her closely, feeling ridiculously weak in the presence of this tragedy, while the doctor took a moment to glance at Makuno's chart.

"She's been talking periodically for the last forty minutes or so," he said, putting the chart back, "So far, she's known who she is and where she is, but she seems to think that it's 1962."

"Oh," Natsumi whispered, staring down at the face of her mother, as if she was still unable to recognize it. Silence washed over the room, then, until the doctor spoke nearly five minutes later.

"I'll come back in an hour or so, Natsumi-san," he told her, moving toward the door, "We can further discuss your choice, then." Natsumi nodded mutely, unable to bring herself to open her mouth for fear that she would start crying again.

Hunny offered the man a small smile, "Thank you, Sensei."

The doctor hummed an acknowledgement and made his way out the door, eyes downcast. It seemed he was grieving the death of Hoshiyama Makuno already. Hunny also looked down sadly, understanding the hopelessness of it all. Even if her body remained alive, her mind would most likely be long gone by morning. A sob from his right pulled him out of his musings.

Natsumi had buried her face in her palms, and crouched down onto the floor. Her body shook with silent tears, except for the gasps that emitted from her whenever a particularly violent shudder raked through her body.

"Mitsukuni," she cried, "What am I going to do?" He didn't say anything; it had been a rhetorical question, anyway. All he could do was kneel beside her and offer her a shoulder to cry on.

This was how their next guest found them. She was a short, stout woman, perhaps in her fifties. When Natsumi saw her, she recognized her instantly.

"Naona," she greeted, standing to dry her eyes like she hadn't been crying in the first place, "How are you?"

Naona bowed, "I'm fine, Natsumi-san. How are you?"

Natsumi looked away, smiling humorlessly, "I've been better, but…"

"Oh, Natsumi-san, I'm so sorry!" Naona suddenly wailed, "I should have made her come to the hospital before! But she said the headaches weren't that bad, and she didn't want to worry you, and with her heart condition, I was afraid that the stress of being forced to come would have done more harm than good… I'm sorry, really I am!"

"No, Naona," said Natsumi, "Don't be. It isn't your fault."

Now Hunny recalled the woman—he had met her when he had visited the Hoshiyama's home for the first time. She was the head housekeeper and Makuno's personal companion. Though she worked for the Hoshiyama women, she was more like family to them, having been working in their home for nearly thirty years.

Naona bowed her head, still ashamed with herself, but turned to Hunny a moment later to greet him, "Haninozuka-san. Hello."

Hunny gave her the same sad smile that he had given the doctor, "Hello."

And once again, silence washed over the room, leaving three of the four inhabitants wishing for a topic that wouldn't bring up more tears, more guilt, more regrets. Alas, no such topic came, and the three of them were only able to stand, moths opening occasionally, but no words ever coming out. Natsumi turned her back to them at one point, reaching to grasp her mother's hand and staying that way for a long time. Or perhaps it was a short time; the minutes had been incalculable for a while now.

* * *

Amelia crossed and uncrossed her legs restlessly all the way to the airport. She couldn't _wait_ to be on the plane headed home. The first thing she'd do once she got there was quit her job—that jerk had been hitting on her a little too much, and now that she didn't need the job, she was going to give him a piece of her mind!

Okay, maybe not. But she was still going to quit. After that, she'd sell a couple of the shares that her father had given her, and live off the money from them for a while. She'd never admit it, but her father had done a big thing for her; he had given her the assets to live comfortably for the rest of her life, even if she never inherited.

She continued to fidget, until a hand was on her knee, the firm touch asking her to be still. She looked at Mori, and slowly smiled at the way he was looking back at her. It was hard to tell, but her behavior was worrying him a little. But something was tugging at the back of her mind.

"Takashi," she began. They never said each other's names in public, and it was still fairly atypical when they were alone. The use of the rare endearment clued Mori in on how troubled her thoughts must have been.

After a pause, she continued, "About what my mother said…" He quickly snatched up her hand and gave it a squeeze, making her stop.

"She was wrong," he said simply, "Don't worry about it." This made her relax, finally, and no more than five minutes later, they arrived at the airport, where the Willard-Jones' private jet would return them to Japan.

They went through, and exited to where their plane was waiting for them, along with a few people standing around. None of the workers or the men in dark suits surprised them, but the woman standing with those men _did_ surprise them.

"_The witch couldn't come to see me off herself?_" Amelia asked Brooke, smiling a little at the older woman.

"_The paperwork went through,_" said Brooke, returning the grin, "_And I'm sure you can guess the reaction Ms. Willard-Jones had at seeing nearly a fourth of her company in the hands of an 'A. R. Willard-Jones'. And what was worse, 'G. Harding' didn't show up at all as a shareholder._"

Amelia's smile fell, "_Brooke…?_"

"_Yeah,_" Brooke laughed, "_I've been sacked. But it's not a big deal; I can always go back home and work in the family deli-_"

"_Come with me, Brooke!_" Amelia suddenly demanded, "_My mother made me realize that there's hardly anyone you can trust in the world, and I need to keep all of the people that I __**do**__ trust as close to me as possible._" Brooke only stared at her, before another laugh escaped her, and she shook her head at Amelia's uncharacteristic outburst.

"_I can't go all the way to Japan,_" she admitted humbly, "_I can't even speak Japanese._"

"_But it's my fault…_"

Brooke silenced her, "_For as long as you've been alive, it's been my job to protect you, not your job to protect me. Things might not have been all rose-colored, but I think we had a good run, don't you?_"

Amelia focused her gaze at the ground, "_So it's over, then?_"

"_You don't need me anymore,_" Brooke patted the taller woman's head lovingly, "_You're all grown up, and you'll be fine from now on. So, yes, this is goodbye._"

"_I'll miss you,_" said Amelia, accepting the hug that was offered to her.

"_I'll miss you, too,_" Brooke replied, patting Amelia's back, "_But I know you'll be fine-you've got someone else watching over you, now._" Amelia flushed at her old caretaker's words, but smiled and nodded, anyway, accepting the truth of those words. With a final wave, the two women parted, and Mori and Amelia boarded the jet silently.

"My poor father," Amelia lamented mockingly, looking out the window somewhere over Germany, "He never got the chance to take you to a shooting range and torture you." Mori made a noncommittal noise, making Amelia smirk in his direction.

"You're not off the hook, yet. He's probably got friends in Yakuza to hunt you down."

At this, Mori's lip twitched in amusement, "Resourceful." The blonde woman chuckled, sinking back into her seat tiredly, eyelids feeling heavy.

Sleep hadn't come easy the night before, and while her relationship with her mother was no better today, and she'd probably never see Brooke again, there was a sense of closure now; as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Feeling decidedly lighter, and undeniable tired, she finally let sleep overtake her, but not before feeling gentle fingers brushing the hair from her face.

* * *

"Please?"

"No."

"Pleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaase?"

"_No_, Senpai."

"Why can't we go shopping?"

Haruhi sighed, "Because we have six months. Besides, we don't even know if it's a girl or a boy yet." Tamaki mumbled about how unfair life was, as he settled beside his girlfriend once more, pouting cutely.

Wait. _Cutely?_ Haruhi shook her head, blaming the hormones.

"Haruhi?"

"Hm?"

Tamaki smiled uneasily at her, "Why do you still call me 'senpai'? I've asked you to call me Tamaki and to leave off the honorific, but you don't." He twiddled his thumbs nervously. She still called Kyouya 'senpai' too, did that mean that she thought of the two men on the same level? Tamaki didn't like the thought of _that_ at all.

"Old habit," she said simply, noticing the look on his face, "What's wrong with it?"

"Oh, nothing," he muttered dejectedly, slouching. "How long before we know the sex?" he finally asked, finding himself happier when thinking of his impending fatherhood.

She glanced at him, before going back to her mending, "About six weeks."

He clapped excitedly, "Only three more weeks until my best friend is married, and then three more after that until I get to see my baby!" As he went on about how happy he was about the upcoming events, she found herself smiling. He'd probably be impossible to live with, but he'd make a great father.

* * *

Izumi stood in front of the building which housed the Hitachiin brothers' apartment, staring up at the many windows and trying to count how many floors there were, even though she already knew that there were twenty. With one last look around, she entered the building. Without a word to the clerk, she went to the elevator and up to the seventh floor.

No more than ten seconds after she knocked, the door opened, and she was face-to-face with a glaring Hikaru. It only took a second before he started laughing at her, though.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, hardly able to breathe through his laughter.

"I'm trying to be incognito!" she snapped, forcing her way inside and slamming the door behind her, as the younger of the Hitachiin twins came to see what all the noise was about.

"Well way to go, Einstein," he continued to laugh at her, "You've managed to make yourself look _more_ suspicious." She removed her dark sunglasses and her hat to better glare at him, before turning to the person that she had come to talk to.

"Kaoru," she said, hopeful that he wasn't mad at her for not seeing him for nearly a month, "Um, can we talk, maybe?" He nodded, leading her to the kitchen.

"I understand if you're angry," she mumbled, staring at her feet.

He shook his head, "I'm not angry." Izumi's head snapped up to stare at him.

"You're not?"

"No. But I do want to know what happened."

She bit her bottom lip, "I'm sorry if I hurt you, Kaoru. I had it in my head that I was doing the right thing."

Kaoru smiled at her, "You _never_ say sorry."

"Then you must know that I _really_ mean it," she turned her face away, "I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm asking for it anyway."

"Then you have it," he said simply, moving across the kitchen to stand beside her. "So…" teased Kaoru, pretending that he wasn't interested in the answer, "Would you _really_ be lost without me?" She started coughing like she had been drinking something, seemingly choking on air.

"Well, you know," she tried to defend herself, "Some of that stuff is scripted." He rolled his eyes skyward at her feigned nonchalance, as she continued with a tiny smile, "But that wasn't."

"Oh, how sweet," mocked Hikaru, entering the kitchen and getting a glass of water like he _hadn't_ just been eavesdropping. The couple blinked at him for a minute before Izumi's temper flared.

"Dammit, Hikaru! Mind your own business, you jerk!"

He glared at her, "If you want privacy, then leave! I live here!"

"That reminds me," Kaoru interrupted, "Izumi! Marry me, and move in here, and we can have ten children and name them all Macy!"

"Oh, Kaoru! You've read my dreams!"

Hikaru growled, "I hate you both."

Kaoru grinned at his brother, "Oh, no you don't."

"Well, I hate her."

"Yeah? Well, I hate you more!"

"I hated you first!"

"No," Izumi waved her hands in the air, "Because I hated you before I even met you!"

"Well I hated you in a past life!"

"Yeah?! Well, you're stupid!"

"Not as stupid as you!"

Kaoru groaned as the pointless argument continued. This was one of those things that wouldn't change until Hell froze over.

* * *

True to his word, the doctor returned an hour after he had left, looking the same, if not a little more tired. "Have you had enough time?" he asked.

Natsumi nodded, "And you're _sure_ that no matter what, she'll never be like she was before?"

"No," he answered, "Her brain activity is down to the basic function of breathing." With another nod and a deep breath, Natsumi made a decision.

"Take her off of life-support," she said, "She wouldn't want to be alive if she wasn't able to do puzzles and talk to her friends."

"Are you sure, Natsumi-san?" Natsumi couldn't bring herself to say anything, and only inclined her head in affirmation. The doctor then asked her to come with him to fill out the necessary paperwork.

Naona had left by the time Natsumi got back from the long process of termination. When it was done, all they could do was wait for Makuno's life to end on its own. During this time, Natsumi swore not to leave her mother's side.

More than once, she opened her eyes and blinked, but those eyes were incapable of sight, and that thought caused fresh tears to streak down Natsumi's cheeks.

Hunny stayed close to Natsumi, though he was unsure of whether it was for her benefit, or his own. He didn't know what to do-he _hated_ not knowing what to do. He was a naturally empathetic person, and he never wanted to see people suffering, especially the people he cared about. And yet, here he was, standing behind his wife, who would spend hours on end crying. This, mixed with the emotionally draining layer of Hell known as a hospital, left him feeling exhausted, even after he had gotten a few hours of sleep in the hotel, which was located a short distance from the hospital.


	6. Chapter 6

**Darling**

**Chapter 6**

Minori finally tracked Izumi down at the Hitachiins' apartment. Or rather, she called her once she was done shopping, and Izumi told her where she was. Either way, two sets of duplicates sat together for the first time in a month, in the living room of the third apartment on the seventh floor of the most expensive high-rise in New York.

"How's my favorite ex?" Minori asked Hikaru in greeting, "Or, are we still dating?"

Hikaru sighed, "No, we've been broken up for three weeks."

"Three weeks?! Well, I think it's time we got back together, then!" Hikaru could only snort and roll his eyes.

Kaoru laughed, "Hope you don't mind if we leave you two alone for a minute." He stood with Izumi, and the two went into the kitchen—for what, one could only guess.

"I can't believe that I thought you had anything in common with Kaoru," Hikaru mused, as he watched his brother and _The Harpy _disappear through the kitchen door.

She smiled winningly at him, "Well, I guess that would follow, considering how alike you and Izumi are."

"I'm nothing like that troll!"

"I do hope you're not calling her ugly," Minori scrunched up her nose, "Because she and I are identical." Hikaru stretched his arms over his head, ignoring her.

"Do you think _I'm_ ugly?" she asked, reaching to poke him in the side.

He flinched away, slightly ticklish, "Wha?! No! Shut up!"

"… Do you think I'm _pretty_?"

He jumped up, trying to end the conversation, "Hey, you two! Don't be doing anything in there that I wouldn't do!" And he ran off, deciding that fighting with Izumi was better than having Minori ask him embarrassing questions. He heard her giggle behind him.

"Oh, get over yourself," Izumi muttered, as she and Kaoru returned to the living room, each carrying two glasses. Izumi handed one of hers off to Minori, while Kaoru gave one of his to Hikaru, and the four sat together once more, with Hikaru and Minori on the couch together, and Kaoru and Izumi side by side in the armchairs.

"Have you discussed what you came to discuss?" Minori asked her sister after a minute, earning a pained moan from Izumi. "Yeah, that's what I thought," Minori mumbled, shaking her head, "What Izumi was _supposed_ to ask, is what she should have asked in the first place." Izumi glared at her sister, but eventually turned her attention to Kaoru.

"Um," she said, drumming her fingers on the armrest, "Do you guys want to make this public? Because if one of you does, the other will get the attention whether he wants it or not, so you should probably agree."

There was a quiet moment, as Hikaru and Kaoru looked at each other as if they were capable of communicating telepathically (which probably wasn't a stretch). With nods toward each other, Hikaru started.

"Actually," he said, "We were thinking…"

"Since we spent Christmas with your family," Kaoru picked up where his brother left off, "It only follows that you should get to meet ours, too."

Hikaru continued, "And with Kyouya's wedding coming up…"

"It's only logical that we should visit our parents since we're in Japan anyway," they finished together. Izumi and Minori blinked at them, half because of the offer that had just been made to them, half because of their perfect unison—which they should have been used to by now. With a (slightly less telepathic-esque) look between them, Izumi spoke first.

"Well?"

Minori shrugged, "It sounds like fun." The sisters then turned, one toward Hikaru and one toward Kaoru.

"Okay," they said in unison, only for both of them to retch a moment later.

"I think they're rubbing off on us," Izumi commented, a shiver running down her spine. Minori's look of horror was the only answer she received.

* * *

For three days, Natsumi did not leave Makuno for more time than it took to go to the bathroom. Hunny spent nearly that long trying to pry Natsumi from her mother's bedside, but eventually, the sound of food and a nap began to appeal to her enough to get her to leave. The girl stood by the door, trying to will herself to be strong, but the tears flowed freely, regardless of her feeble attempts to stop them.

"I don't want her to be alone," the girl finally sobbed, slumping against the doorframe, and pressing her face into her hands.

He felt his heart nearly jump into his throat, as a pain spread across his chest in sympathy for his wife. A few hard, painful swallows allowed him to speak again, as he pulled the woman against him, stroking her auburn hair gently. "She won't be alone, Natsumi," he promised, "I'll stay with her until you come back."

Reluctantly, she nodded, drying her eyes as best she could, and stood once more, seemingly unable to look him in the face. It was painful for her, but she tore her gaze away from her dying mother, and stepped out of the room for the first time in nearly seventy-two hours.

He watched her walk like the living dead all the way down the hall, until she turned the corner to the area where the elevators were located. Once he was sure that she had gone down to the cafeteria to get some food, he approached Makuno's bed, sitting gingerly in the chair where Natsumi had recently been sitting. It really wasn't fair, he thought, looking at the frail old woman's deathly pale features. Makuno and Natsumi were two of the kindest souls he knew; both more than willing to help those in need, and always trying to think the best of people. Makuno didn't deserve to be in this kind of pain, and Natsumi didn't deserve the sadness of watching her in this kind of pain. The worst part was how unusually helpless it all made Hunny feel, to know that there was an unavoidable storm coming toward the two women, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Makuno-san," he murmured, as the woman tiredly opened her eyes. This was nothing new, as she did it every few hours, but never responded to any stimuli, showing the doctors just how far gone her mind was. He grasped her hand, like he had watched Natsumi do so many times, and exhaled shakily, feeling his pulse speed up unexplainably.

"Makuno-san," he whispered once more, not expecting a reaction, "You have to pull through this. I know they're saying that it's impossible, but you have to try, because…" He trailed off, not really knowing what to say, and feeling a little stupid for speaking to someone who couldn't actually hear him.

It wasn't until she turned her head to him slightly, staring at him with unseeing eyes—eyes that looked so dead, that he would have thought she was just that if the heart monitor beside her wasn't still beeping rhythmically—that he found himself able to continue.

"Because," he tried again, shaking with an unknown emotion that was very unpleasant for him, "I'm in love with your daughter, and I hate seeing her sad about something that I can't protect her from… So, please… _Please try_ to get better."

He felt her grip of his hand tighten for a millisecond, and wondered if it was just what was left of her brain short-circuiting, or if fatigue was making _his brain_ short-circuit. Her eyes still looked at him lifelessly, her hand still felt corpse-like in his grasp, and her skin was still as white as a new sheet, but he could have sworn he saw her mouth moving like she was trying to say something. He didn't know if he was dreaming, or if it was actually happening, but either way, he couldn't decide if he should be terrified or amazed at the impossible movement he was seeing. The woman was supposed to be brain-dead, after all, and squeezing his hand for that instant was one thing, but trying to form words was a whole new thing altogether.

Paying closer attention, she seemed to be saying a few words, over and over again, like some kind of mantra. _Something, something, something_. _Something, something, something_…

"… Natsumi." He had finally figured out the last word of the statement, as he set to lip-reading the rest of it.

_Something, something, Natsumi_. He watched her mouth the words over and over, her mouth being the only thing that changed as the rest of her body lie as still as it had since he'd first seen it.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he sat upright in a flash. Looking around, the ill woman was as she had been when he had sat down with her. With a groan, and a stretch of his aching muscles, he looked around. _So it was all a dream_, he thought, glancing at the clock in the now dark room. Natsumi had been gone for a little more than four hours, which wasn't _that_ long, considering how long it would take her to eat, and then get some sleep. She might have even gone to the hotel to get her rest, which meant that she could have decided to take a quick shower, too. There honestly wasn't anything to be worried about.

He looked at Makuno again, thinking about his dream, and still trying to figure out what the woman could have been telling him. Subconsciously, his lips formed the shapes that dream-Makuno's mouth had, and in a rush his voice said the words for him as he figured it out.

"Go save Natsumi," he whispered to himself, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. "Save her? From what?" he asked the unconscious form in the bed, almost forgetting that the woman wasn't actually the one who had told him to save Natsumi in the first place.

He took a deep breath, sitting back down. It was crazy to get worked up over a bad dream. That's all it was, after all, just a dream. Even so, he found a shiver running down his spine and a cold sweat covering his body. _I'll just check the waiting room_, he decided, standing up, _She'll be there napping, and then I can put that dream out of my head_. With one last glance at Makuno, he promised to be back in a minute, as he went down the hall to peek into the family waiting room.

The room had a few couches for people like Natsumi, who didn't want to leave their loved ones' sides while they were in the hospital, to sleep on. He looked inside, and saw a woman reading, while a child rested his head on the woman's lap, but no Natsumi. With a polite smile to the woman who looked up at him, he turned to go, trying to fight off some of the unease.

_Okay_, he thought to himself,_ She's not there, but that doesn't mean that she didn't go back to the hotel room_. He went back to Makuno's room and sat in the chair next to her bed, trying to convince himself that he was just being a little paranoid. He sat quietly, trying to assure himself that Natsumi was fine, but there was this bad feeling that he just couldn't seem to get rid of.

"I promised her I'd stay with you," he said to Makuno, even though she couldn't hear. And just like in his dream, she squeezed his hand, and he jumped up, taking it as some kind of cosmic sign.

Hunny started by calling his driver to ask about Natsumi, but the driver told him that he hadn't seen Natsumi since they'd arrived three days ago. With that knowledge, he surmised that she almost had to still be in the hospital.

"I'll be right back, Makuno-san," he called back to the sleeping woman as he grabbed his coat and darted out of the room, down the hall to the elevator. He would start in the cafeteria and retrace her steps to the best of his ability.

She wasn't in the cafeteria; the workers there told him that they hadn't seen her since a few hours ago, which was about the time he had sent her there. He hurried to the front entrance to speak to the receptionist, who told him that Natsumi had left a few hours ago, as all people who came and went after nine o'clock had to sign in and out to keep track of visitors. Natsumi had signed out at 9:04.

This greatly bothered him, because it meant that she had left the hospital, in the dark, without a ride. Trying to be rational, he called the hotel to see if she had come in, but if she had, no one had seen her do it. He grasped the first pen and signed out, only taking a moment to compare their times. She had signed out three hours and thirteen minutes before him, and for all he knew, she was still out there.

It was thirty degrees outside, and he shivered, pulling his jacket closer to his body. There was nothing along the main walking route to the hotel, and when he got there, she wasn't there. He took an alternate way back to the hospital, but didn't find her along there, either.

Taking a third, longer route back to the hotel again, deciding that if he didn't find her this time, he was going to call the cops. These sidewalks were practically void of human life, making it easier to search, but at the same time, it made him more nervous.

"Natsumi!" he called for what was probably the hundredth time that night, "Natsumi!" He paused, shivering from the cold and from the fear that something really bad had happened to her, and that's when he heard it.

"Mitsukuni?" a voice called back to him, "Mitsukuni, is that you?"

He followed the voice, ending up in an even more deserted area, feeling relief flood him when he finally saw her. "Natsumi," he yelled, running toward her, "I'm so glad I found you!"

"Stop, Mitsukuni!"

He froze instantly, taken aback by how demanding her tone had been, and assuming that it was important if she was being so unlike her over it. "Why?" he asked, still not moving.

"There's ice there," she pointed to a spot that didn't look icy at all, "Be careful."

He nodded, relaxing and approaching her cautiously, kneeling in front of her when he was finally close enough. "What happened? How long have you been here?"

She looked away, obviously feeling too embarrassed to look at him at the moment. "Well," she muttered bashfully, "I was taking a walk to some of the places that my mother and I used to go, and I was on my way to the hotel, when I heard something. I came here to see what it was, and I slipped on the ice, and I think I twisted my ankle." She looked at him then, "I tried calling for help, but there wasn't anyone around. Oh, Mitsukuni, I'm so glad you came."

He reached around to hug her, "I am, too." He didn't get far hugging her when he felt something shift between them. Looking down, he saw something fuzzy in her arms. "Natsumi, what is that?" he asked slowly.

She held it up for him to see, "A kitten. It turns out, this is what had made the noise, and he looked so cold and lonely…"

He resisted the urge to gush about how cute it was, and tried to put on an angry face for getting herself hurt over a cat and making him worry, but he couldn't quite get it done, and settled for hugging her once more. He honestly didn't know if he should thank Makuno, or his own subconscious, or Kami, or some other deity, so he settled for being thankful in general, as he held her almost possessively against him.

"Besides your ankle," he asked after a few minutes, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, "Yeah, just a little cold."

He quickly wrapped his coat around her and picked her up, carrying her back to the hospital. A _little_ cold?! He could see his breath! Plus, further inspection showed him that her lips almost looked blue.

They finally reached the hospital a few minutes later, where she was taken to a room to get her ankle checked on, and he was ordered by the hospital staff to do something with the kitten that _didn't_ involve bringing it in with him.

"See that this cat gets veterinary attention. We'll be taking it home with us," Hunny told his chauffer, who grumbled that it wasn't actually _his_ job to do things like that for the young Haninozuka, but obeyed anyway, liking his employer too much to argue about it.

* * *

Even without life-support, Hoshiyama Makuno lived for five days. Her inevitable death sent Natsumi even further into depression, which continued even once they were back in Tokyo. The entire Hoshiyama staff as well as the Haninozuka family had attended the funeral, where Natsumi had managed to keep herself from crying until she and Hunny were alone.

In the generous estate that housed Hunny and his melancholy wife, he sat with his cousin for the first time in more than a week. Natsumi refused to leave her room, and she had barely eaten anything in the two days since their return home.

"I'm worried about Natsu-chan," Hunny intoned, staring at his untouched cake and petting the nameless kitten, which he referred to as Neko-chan. Neko-chan seemed very fond of Usa-chan, as the kitten curled up next to her on his lap.

Even if Mori had been a more talkative person, he probably still wouldn't have known what to say. All he could think of was, 'give it time,' but he supposed that Hunny had heard that piece advice more than enough times. He supposed that Hunny didn't need advice as much as he needed someone to listen, anyway, and Mori just happened to be one of the best listeners a person could find.

Since his return from London, Mori's life had been very much business as usual, minus his little blond cousin. Even with his—now unemployed—girlfriend, Mori was quite lonely without having Hunny around.

"She's supposed to be getting better. Why isn't she getting better?" Hunny suddenly burst, "She won't even draw, or anything!" Mori responded by nudging Hunny's plate a little closer to him, and Hunny accepted the gesture appreciatively by eating the piece of cake in record time. It seemed to calm him somewhat.

* * *

Izumi and Minori had agreed to go to Japan and meet Kaoru and Hikaru's parents, and then attend the wedding (Minori squealed with delight at this news). What they hadn't known, was the exact amount of time before they left, which turned out to be not long. Actually, it was like an hour. With much scrambling (and much falling down and cursing on Izumi's part), the girls actually managed to be ready in time for takeoff.

Now here they were, fourteen hours later, standing in front of the Hitachiin mansion.

"Well," asked the male twins, in sync as per usual, "What are you waiting for? Let's go inside." Both female twins could only stare in wonder at the large house. Seriously, who needed something this big?!

Minori was the quickest to recover, masking her awe with a 'comparative surveying' kind of look. "It's impressive," she complimented, feigning nonchalance as she followed them to the front door. Izumi kept her head tilted back, staring upward at the structure before her, and followed her sister mindlessly. It wasn't long, however, until they were met with a whole new scene to stare at.

The interior was all marble floors, and high ceilings from which extravagant chandeliers hung, and beautiful wall hangings, all outlined with intricately carved woodwork. The two of them may have been famous now, but riches weren't quite as abundant as some might have thought, and their family still lived in the house that they had grown up in—which was a perfectly adequate house, nice even, by most people's standards. Compared to this, however, their home was a shack.

The four of them were greeted by a butler of sorts, who hung their coats up for them, and then led the group into a sitting room. This room was even nicer than the foyer, and Minori and Izumi couldn't help but feel a little out of place. The girls looked at each other, conveying their discomfort to one another, before small smiles crossed their faces. They found comfort in knowing that neither was alone in her feelings.

After a few minutes, a woman entered the room, dressed quite fashionably. Her grin was that of Hikaru and Kaoru, the girls noted, giving away her identity.

"Hikaru, Kaoru," she greeted happily, "Or… Kaoru, Hikaru…?" Yes, for all her ability to sense new trends from a mile away, she was not perceptive enough to differentiate between her sons.

Kaoru and Hikaru corrected her gently, before moving on to introduce her to the raven-haired duplicates beside them.

"This is Izumi," said Kaoru.

"And this is Minori," Hikaru added.

"Meet our mom," they said together, both gesturing toward the woman in question.

She looked at the girls, obviously cataloguing who was who for future reference, before giving them a smile that only a cold-blooded killer couldn't return. "I'm Hitachiin Yuzuha," she said, "Feel free to call me Yuzuha-san."

"Where's Dad?" Hikaru asked, looking around as if the man was lurking in the shadows somewhere (which wasn't exactly _unlikely_).

"He got called off on business," Yuzuha explained, "Apparently it was an emergency. Hopefully, he'll be back before you have to leave for America." Both of her sons nodded in understanding. She then leaned toward Minori and Izumi, grinning like the Cheshire cat, "Maybe you can still get a chance to meet your future father-in-law…"

"Mom!" Hikaru snapped indignantly, as matching blushes crept over his and Kaoru's faces. She giggled to herself, moving out of the Shigemiwa twins' personal bubble, and sitting on an elegant sofa across from them.

As the three Hitachiins took a few minutes to catch up, Minori took that time to look around, but not at the décor, like one might have guessed. First, she studied Hikaru, noting how he slumped a little like he didn't care, but his eyes were trained on his mother, and he couldn't seem to keep himself from smiling at her. Minori resisted the urge to chuckle, _Mama's boy…_

Then she looked at Kaoru, who was acting like one would expect a son to, smiling and telling stories about his latest adventures with polyester fabrics. Lastly, she glanced at her twin, who was still blushing, staring at her lap with a faraway look in her eyes. Minori had to keep herself from laughing again. _She's probably already deciding what she's going to name her kids_, she thought, closing her eyes and relaxing. With a final dreamy sigh, jetlag caught up with her, and she involuntarily dozed off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Darling**

**Chapter 7**

Tamaki read and reread the note written on the little piece of paper, not bothering to look at his best friend for several moments. Finally, he lowered the message from in front of his face, tears welling up in his eyes.

"Kyouya," he suddenly cried, launching himself at the annoyed man, "This is so beautiful!"

"Don't be so rough with it," Kyouya muttered, pulling out of Tamaki's grasp and snatching his paper away from the overzealous blond, "You're wrinkling it."

"I wouldn't have pegged you for the kind to write your own vows," one of the twins said; Kyouya couldn't tell which, since everyone was wearing the same black tux.

"What did it say, Tama-chan?" asked Hunny, helping Mori straighten his bowtie. So far, Tamaki had been the only one allowed to read it.

"Alas, Hunny-sempai, I am sworn to secrecy," Tamaki sighed dramatically, sitting on one of the couches. The six men who had made up the host club when they were in high school, now sat in a room on the floor below the chapel, which had been designated for the groom and the groomsmen.

"I don't see why everyone is so interested in my vows," said Kyouya, also sitting, "I may have written them, but they're just combination of every other vow."

Tamaki bolted up, "Are you saying that you didn't write what was in your heart?"

"Of course not," Kyouya snorted, "I don't do such soppy feelings."

"Men," Tamaki barked, "We have a mission! We will help Kyouya realize his feelings, and write them in a new vow!"

"Sounds like fun," said the twins together, smiling devilishly.

Kyouya fixed the three with a firm glare, "No."

"But Kyou-chan," Hunny tried to reason, "She'll be able to tell that your words are forced, and that will hurt her feelings. You should never hurt your wife's feelings."

"Yeah," agreed Mori.

Kyouya resisted a groan, clearly defeated by this group of crazies, as said crazies pounced on him, telling each other what kind of ridiculous schemes they had in mind.

* * *

"Oh, Renge," two (nameless) friends of Renge gushed, "You're _so_ pretty in your wedding dress!"

While Renge and her two air-headed bridesmaids babbled on about how beautiful the dresses were, Haruhi, Amelia, and a still depressed Natsumi sat on the other side of the room. Amelia grumbled to herself, readjusting her dress over her bosom.

"I think they made a mistake with the fitting," she mumbled, pressing on her chest as if she could will the mounds smaller, so that they might fit inside the bodice properly.

Haruhi didn't pay much attention to her, but she had a fairly good idea of how she felt. Had it been a fitting malfunction, or had her abdomen actually gotten bigger? She still didn't _look_ pregnant, but she was beginning to feel it in her clothing a little sooner than expected.

The auburn haired girl on the other side of Haruhi had spent the last few minutes staring off into space, but was pulled out of her musings by a particularly loud squeal from one of the girls attending to Renge. Now she looked around, first seeing a very happy looking Renge, next to two girls that she still hadn't actually met, then she saw the remaining two women to her left, both fidgeting with different parts of their champagne-colored dresses.

"Natsumi-chan, are you feeling okay?" apparently Renge had managed to sneak up on her, "You can go home if you'd like."

"Oh, no, I'm fine," Natsumi gave her a smile that might have been just a little forced. She was happy for Renge, but it was oddly difficult to feel joy. At least she wasn't grieving quite so much, anymore.

Renge gave her a kind smile, before she was suddenly determined, "All right, ladies! It's almost time to make our grand entrance!"

"What's so grand about it?" mumbled Haruhi under her breath.

Renge didn't hear the comment, and went on, "Natsumi-chan, you weren't at the rehearsal dinner last night, so just follow Haruhi-chan, okay?"

That's when the wedding planner came in, to tell them all to head upstairs.

* * *

Kyouya was up at the altar where he belonged, the groomsmen were lined up in order, and Renge's father, Reynard, was waiting to walk her down the aisle. Each bridesmaid paired up with her designated groomsman, Haruhi in front with Tamaki, nameless friends one and two with Hikaru and Kaoru, Natsumi with Hunny, and then Amelia with Mori at the end.

They all walked down to the altar where they went, and Renge was escorted out as the iconic wedding march began to play. Once up front, where nobody was paying attention to him, Tamaki whipped out the crumpled piece of paper and a pen, making alterations to the original vow that Kyouya had written.

Renge made it to the altar, and the minister began to speak, giving Hikaru and Kaoru an opportunity to edit Tamaki's writing, and then Renge began to recite her vow, giving Hunny and Mori a distraction to write their part.

"Kyouya," she said elegantly, "from the moment I first saw you, I said to myself, 'This is the man that I am going to marry.' What I didn't know, was how much growing I would do before that day actually came, but here we are, ready to begin our lives together."

Kyouya took a minute to glance at the people watching them. Reynard sat proudly, listening to her every word, while some of the more emotional people were already beginning to tear up. His father, however, sat statuesque, giving him a hard look, while his brothers and their wives looked bored, most likely only attending out of obligation. His sister was holding a tissue to her face, smiling up at him, while Fuyumi's husband also looked bored. It seemed that the only person who was there because they wanted to be was Fuyumi, and that thought made him all the more grateful to his older sister.

Throughout his thoughts, Renge continued, "In front of our friends and families, I, Houshakuji Renge, promise to love you, Ootori Kyouya, with every part of my being, to respect your decisions as what is best for us as a family, and remain faithfully by your side no matter what may lie ahead."

Kyouya gave a glance at the group of men behind him, hoping that they were done "truthifying" his vows. Luckly, he felt the paper pressed firmly into his hand, then, and looked down at it with an internal sigh of relief.

Kyouya's blood pressure went up, however, looking at the rewritten vows that his so-called friends had just handed off to him. The original had been so distorted that he couldn't even read it. Only a couple of the words that were in his handwriting were still there, followed by something about a fountain of love in Tamaki's swirling script, but most of that had been scribbled out by a messy writing that was the twins', the only part of which still existed read, 'have my babies.' Hunny's loopy writing seemed to be what scribbled out most of the twins' writing (save for the _brilliant_ "babies" part), and said, 'eat cake with me.' It all ended with Mori's writing, 'until death do you part,' and then the word 'amen,' filled in by Tamaki.

Kyouya's eye twitched. Okay, plan B: improvise.

"Renge," he said suddenly, trying to think of something to say. He couldn't even remember what he originally wrote anymore. "When we decided to write our own vows, I thought it would be easy. However, it turns out that my feelings for you cannot be expressed in words."

"Oh, _smoooooth_," the twins whispered sarcastically, only to be shushed by Tamaki, who was listening intently.

"Regardless," Kyouya continued, trying to ignore them, "I intend to show you how I feel as our lives go on together, by being your pillar of support, the shoulder you can cry on, and to share my life with you, through joy and sorrow. Fortune and hardship." Renge blinked at him, obviously surprised by what he was saying. Unfortunately, there still seemed to be something missing.

"It's a promise," he finished lamely. Luckily, the romantics in the chapel loved it, and the cynics wouldn't have been impressed by any vow he could have made.

Rings were exchanged, and they were pronounced husband and wife, followed by a gentle (rehearsed) kiss, and then they were off to the reception.

* * *

"Ugh, it's so nice to get away from those girls!" Hikaru said, flopping down into a chair, "It's bad enough knowing _one_ otaku. Now we're expected to escort two more around?" Kaoru didn't bother to reprimand his brother for his rudeness; they happened to be in agreement on the matter. The two of them had been forced to pair up with those _giggling idiots _for the first couple dances, and then the wedding photos.

"Surely they're not _that_ bad," Minori tried to defend nameless-friends-of-Renge one and two.

"Surely, they _are_," Kaoru declared with a nod.

Izumi changed the subject, "It was really nice of Yuzuha-san to lend us these dresses."

Hikaru sighed, "She was probably so excited to get identical models for her coordinating dresses that she'd have given you her left foot, too."

"Yeah," added Kaoru, "Mother is a fan of symmetry."

"Hello, Devil Twins, and…" Tamaki scratched his head.

"Hard when you don't have a collective name for us, isn't it?" asked Minori with a grin, while Izumi snorted and then scowled.

"Minori and Izumi," said Tamaki, pointing to each one accordingly, "My, you ladies look lovely today… and very… alike."

"Well, our personalities are only opposite for your benefit," muttered Izumi sarcastically.

"Really?" Tamaki blinked obliviously. Then, noticing Haruhi talking to Kyouya a few feet away, Tamaki ran off without another word.

* * *

"Haruhi," Kyouya approached her, "I need to ask a favor."

"How do you know I won't charge you for it?" she teased.

He glared at her, "Not funny."

"Okay, what do you need?"

"As the best man, Tamaki is expected to make a speech," he explained, "I need you to keep him from going over the top."

"And how do you expect me to do that?"

"You're smart, you'll figure it out," he said, turning away from her, "Worst case, you can pretend to go into labor."

Haruhi watched him walk away, muttering to herself, "Why does everyone act like I'm going to pop at any minute?"

"Haruhi!" Tamaki ran up to her and captured her hands in his, "May I have this dance?"

"Uh, sure," she shrugged, before being dragged into the crowd of dancing couples.

* * *

The ballroom had been split in two, one half dedicated to a small orchestra platform and highly polished wood floors for dancing, and the other half for dinner, with long tables arranged in a rectangular shape and decorated with gold nameplates and elaborate candelabras. To the left of the tables was another long table against the wall, which held glasses of champagne, an obnoxiously expensive cake, and even an ice sculpture of a swan. The wedding had had a substantial budget, thanks in large part to Renge's overindulgent father.

With some rearranging just before the wedding ceremony, the twins had managed to situate Renge's nameless otaku friends away from them, and move Minori and Izumi out of the bowels of the seating chart, much to the irritation of the wedding planner. The vexed planner forgot to be angry, however, when Tamaki stepped in and compared her to cherry blossoms in the spring.

All of the meddling came to fruition when dinner approached, everyone made their way to their labeled seats, and Hikaru and Kaoru didn't have to hear about any more anime characters. That alone was enough to make it all worth it.

The meal was about to be served, and Tamaki stood up to toast the newlyweds. Everyone steeled themselves for what the blond hafu might come up with, as the room hushed to listen to his speech.

"Good evening, everyone," Tamaki greeted formally. He wasn't being his usual extravagant self, but he still looked genuinely happy to be the one giving the speech. "On behalf of Kyouya and Renge, I'd like to thank you all for being here. My name is Suou Tamaki, and I have known Kyouya for six years. Even in high school, everyone expected that Kyouya would excel in everything he did, and one day become a great man. Which is why the love between him and Renge comes as no surprise, because behind every great man, is an even greater woman.

"If you would," Tamaki said, raising his glass, "I'd like to propose a toast to the lovely couple. Here's to Ootori Kyouya and Renge, may all their yesterdays be happy, and their tomorrows be many." Everyone took a drink and gave a short applause, and then food was served.

Haruhi stared down at her food, watching Tamaki out of the corner of her eye. After a minute, she decided to voice the question that was on all their friends' minds, "How did you write something like that?" He paused, smile sinking a little, but not leaving his face.

"I just thought about what I would want Kyouya to say at my wedding," he answered, "This is an important day for him, and I want it to be perfect."

"Idiot," snorted Kyouya, on Tamaki's other side, "What makes you think I'd say anything at your wedding?"

Tamaki grinned at him, "Because you're my best friend." He then went back to eating, knowing that the conversation was now over.

Kyouya allowed himself a tiny smile, also returning to his meal. Perhaps Tamaki knew him too well.

* * *

After dinner, followed by the cake cutting (which Hunny thoroughly enjoyed), followed by a few more hours of dancing and conversing, it came time for the moment that all unmarried women go to weddings for: the bouquet toss.

Haruhi sat down at the table where all of the former hosts and their significant others had been sitting throughout dinner. "I'd rather not get in on this," she muttered, taking a drink of water. She wasn't even allowed to drink the champagne, which meant that it was cider, or water.

"Are you sure?" asked Tamaki, pouting. He obviously took the old superstition very seriously.

"Yes, I'm sure," she answered firmly.

Izumi stretched, "I don't blame her. The whole concept is just stupid, right Minori? … Minori?" Izumi looked around, only to see her twin fighting her way to the center of the crowd of insane single women. "Never mind," she sighed, resting her chin in her palm.

"If it helps," said Amelia from her chair to the left of Izumi, "I agree with you."

"Thanks." Izumi then closed her eyes, the sound of the frantic shrieks being her only indication that the bouquet was in the air.

Renge glanced back over her shoulder, but scowled when she saw that Haruhi was still sitting, not participating in the flower catching event. With a huff, she turned back around, and threw the bouquet extra hard, trying her best to aim it at the tomboy. Up into the air it sailed, over the heads of the jumping, screeching ladies, and straight onto the head of someone that wasn't even participating.

Izumi gave a sharp cry, half in pain, half in surprise, as a foreign object hit her in the head, and then promptly bounced into the lap on the blonde woman beside her. Amelia, who also hadn't been paying much attention, looked up, only to see Renge giving her a look and gesturing toward Haruhi behind the backs of all the women who had been hoping to catch the bundle of flowers.

Amelia shrugged, not really caring much about it anyway, and chucked the flowers at an unsuspecting Haruhi, who gave her a peeved look in return. Amelia nodded in Renge's direction, and when Haruhi caught on, she heaved an exasperated sigh.

"Well, _that_ was discreet," she muttered sarcastically.

Izumi, still rubbing her head gingerly, growled, "I don't think discretion has ever been her strong suit."

Tamaki then pulled Haruhi away to plan _their_ wedding (Haruhi had the bouquet, so that was _obviously_ the next step!), and Amelia wandered off to find Mori, who was probably by Hunny, who was probably by the cake, leaving Izumi all alone… For about a second.

"Hey, nice catch," teased Hikaru, coming to sit next to her.

"Oh, shut up," she spat back. Damn, she hated him.

He folded his arms testily, "Don't be mad at me. It's not my fault you're a shrew." And then all Hell broke loose.

* * *

Kyouya, getting a minute between greeting important businessmen, sat with Kaoru, surveying the room. In the center of the dance floor, Renge, her nameless otaku friends, and Minori were all talking animatedly about lord-only-knew-what, while Hunny ate cake with Natsumi and Mori on each of his sides, and Amelia on the other side of Mori. Over on the other side of the room, Tamaki had just slumped into his dark corner of woe, while Haruhi stood dumbfounded, obviously having said something without realizing it, and adjacent to them were Hikaru and Izumi, who were apparently in the middle of a fight.

"And these are the people I'm investing my life into," Kyouya sighed, shaking his head. Kaoru didn't take his eyes off his brother and girlfriend, who were by now in the midst of a heated argument.

"You say that now," he chuckled, "But I bet if it changed, you'd miss it. I know I would."

Kyouya seemed to think about that for a minute, "Indeed."

"The carriage may be a pumpkin now," Kaoru said to himself, "But we'll always have the glass slipper."

"What was that?"

Kaoru shook his head, "Nothing. I'd better go stop that fight before one of them breaks something."


	8. Chapter 8

**Darling**

**Chapter 8**

"Suou-san, Fujioka-san, good to see you," said a doctor, entering the room. Tamaki and Haruhi hadn't been waiting long; Haruhi didn't know if this was because they were in an Ootori hospital, or if all rich people waited for less than half the time a commoner would have to.

Tamaki nodded, trying to remain as calm and business-like as possible through his excitement. "Do I get to I get to see my baby today?" he finally asked, sounding like a kid on Christmas morning. He was even bouncing around like an energetic child.

Haruhi sighed. Unlike most people, who only got two or three ultrasounds per pregnancy (because they were, strangely, quite expensive), Tamaki insisted that they have one at every checkup—this number was far too many to be healthy, however, so they ended up settling on a 'every two visits' compromise. Haruhi wouldn't have minded doing things like a normal person, but arguing with Tamaki was like head-butting a brick wall, especially with anything concerning their soon-to-be baby. The doctor gave a friendly chuckle at Tamaki's familiar question.

"Yes," he answered, "In fact, today we may even be able to tell if it's a boy or a girl."

Tamaki's eyes lit up, and he let out a happy cry—something in French. This would be the first ultrasound since the transvaginal scan from their first visit.

The doctor went on, now talking only to Haruhi, "First, we'll need to weigh you, then there are some tests that could help predict any future health issues for your baby…"

"Any test!" Tamaki suddenly yelled, apparently having been listening, even through his squirming around in joy, "Any test at all, if it will make my baby healthy, do it! Do it a hundred times if you have to!"

"Please don't do it a hundred times," Haruhi muttered, and the doctor gave her a sympathetic look. People always thought the same thing whenever Tamaki had an outburst such as the one he had just had: 'that pitiable woman, stuck with that idiot man.' Haruhi, while agreeing that he was a major idiot sometimes, didn't feel as unfortunate as she let on. In fact, she almost felt lucky that of all the women he could have had, Tamaki had insisted on her.

Haruhi was directed to the scale, then, where the doctor wrote down her new weight, and smiled, informing her that she had gained just the right amount. When the time for the ultrasound came, Tamaki clapped happily, situating himself more comfortably in the chair next to the bed that Haruhi was laying on. He held his breath as the clear goop was squirted onto Haruhi's slowly growing tummy, and then the transducer was pressed against the skin. At first, they only listened to the heartbeat, putting a content smile on Haruhi's face, and making Tamaki tear up a little.

"Most women cry when they first hear the heartbeat," the doctor pointed out, looking at Tamaki curiously, "The men rarely react so… emotionally."

Haruhi shrugged nonchalantly, but smiled proudly as she admitted, "We're not exactly conventional."

Then, on the monitor, appeared a white and gray object on a black background. Now both Tamaki and Haruhi were staring in wonder. That thing, however alien-esque it may have looked, was their baby. The doctor then began pointing different parts out, clarifying what each of the body parts were.

"And you want to know the gender today?" he asked, giving them their last chance before the surprise was ruined for them.

Both nodded, Haruhi for the practicality of being able to prepare for the appropriate gender in advance, Tamaki purely because he was impatient.

"Well, you see this here?" the doctor said, pointing to the area between the fetus' tiny legs, "This is where male genitalia would be developing if you were having a boy, but as you can see, there is none, so you're having a—"

"A girl!" Tamaki jumped excitedly for the tenth time that day. With a smile that could have split his head in half, he leaned over, placing a kiss first on Haruhi's forehead, then on her lips.

While Tamaki rambled on about what order he would be telling his friends in, Haruhi got herself cleaned up, and the doctor printed a few pictures of their newfound daughter.

* * *

"Oh, wow! Isn't this great?!" Minori was looking around excitedly, taking in all of the sights and sounds around her in the busy shopping center, while her "boyfriend" and her twin stood crossly, scowling at the prospect of spending a whole day in this crowded place.

Kaoru watched Minori run off for a second before grabbing his brother and significant other by the hands and pulling them after the more enthusiastic of the Shigemiwa girls. When they finally caught up with Minori, she turned to them as if she had forgotten they were even with her.

"And you didn't want to come," she said teasingly, but none of them were sure if she was talking to Izumi or Hikaru (both had thrown separate fits earlier, after all). Regardless, they mutually grunted the unvoiced thought that they could be off doing something _much_ more interesting with their time.

Minori dragged her three companions from store to store until lunch, where they all headed to one of the more high-class restaurants in the area. As Hikaru, Kaoru, and Minori looked over the menus to decide what they would be eating, Izumi went through her sister's receipts.

"Jeez, Minori," she muttered, adding up the sums in her head, "Trying to break the bank or something?"

"Don't worry about it," Minori waved a hand at Izumi without looking up from her menu, "We have enough. Why didn't you buy anything?"

"Because I enjoy standing outside the dressing room, holding your purse too much." Minori didn't respond to the sarcastic comment until after the waiter took their orders.

Once he had left, she jabbed her index finger into her sister's side, "I'm serious. Why don't you ever do any shopping?"

"Because I know that by the time we get home, you'll decide at least half of the stuff you bought makes you look fat," Izumi shrugged unwrapping her spoon absently, "I'll just take those."

"If they make _her_ look fat, what do they do to _you_?" Hikaru snickered, making Izumi throw a dinner roll at him. Whenever the older Hitachiin twin and the younger Shigemiwa twin were together, there was always a fight or two (or twelve), and today seemed to be no exception.

"After this," Minori tried to interject, "I want to go to Mersacci's. Then we can go wherever you want, Izumi."

"Well I'm glad I have your permission."

Minori scowled—a rare expression on her usually cheerful face, "Your sarcasm is not appreciated."

"In case you haven't noticed, almost everything I say is sarcasm," Izumi pointed out, holding her spoon over the flame of one of the candles in the center of the table.

"I noticed," Minori huffed, "And honestly, I think that's the reason you get into fights with everyone you meet."

"I do _not_ get into fights with everyone I meet!"

"Name ten people that you haven't fought with."

While Izumi set to mulling this over, Minori excused herself to 'powder her nose', and Hikaru and Kaoru could only wonder where exactly this particular argument had erupted from. After a few minutes, Izumi jutted her lower lip out, slumping forward dejectedly.

"Am I argumentative?" she asked Kaoru, who looked to his brother nervously.

"Your can of worms," Hikaru muttered, standing, "I'm off to _powder my nose_." Kaoru bit the inside of his cheek, looking for a change of subject.

"I _am_, aren't I?" Izumi ran a hand through her hair irritably, and cursed her twin for being right.

Kaoru offered her a little smile, "You're not _that_ bad. I mean, we've never really fought."

"That's because you give up instead of getting angry," she pointed out. Kaoru was saved from having to come up with a good reply by the fire alarm suddenly going off. There was no fire in sight, but there seemed to be smoke filtering in from somewhere. Within ten seconds, the sprayers went off and everybody evacuated the restaurant. Once everyone was outside and things had calmed down a little, Kaoru looked around.

"Where's Hikaru?" he asked, more to himself than to anyone else.

Izumi also took note of the missing look-alikes, turning her head this way and that in hopes of finding some sign of Minori. Then her phone rang.

"'Zumi?" came Minori's voice through the cell phone.

Izumi sighed in relief, "Yeah, it's me. Where are you?" Kaoru listened intently to Izumi's half of the conversation, bombarding her with questions as soon as she hung up.

"Where is Hikaru? Is he with her? Where are they? Are they okay?"

Izumi waved a hand at him, "Calm down. She and Hikaru were evacuated through the same exit, but they're on the other side, and not sure how to get here."

Kaoru visibly relaxed, "So now what?"

"Now, we're going to go hunt them down. Since we can't go through the restaurant, and there's no way between buildings here, we're going to have to go around." Kaoru nodded in understanding, and the two began walking. "Oh, by the way," Izumi said after a second, "Hikaru says that your battery is dead."

"_Again_?!" Kaoru grumbled, pulling his phone out of his pocket and smacking it against his palm a few times as if that would fix it, "This is a new one, too." Izumi snickered while Kaoru shook his head at his own misfortune, as they continued north to find their doppelgangers.

* * *

"So what's going on?" Hikaru asked the brunet beside him as she put her phone back into her purse.

"You were right, they went through the front."

Hikaru scratched the back of his head, eyes cast skyward. "Might as well go find them, then," he said, turning to begin the journey.

With a nod, Minori caught up with him, falling in step. The two made their way south in search Kaoru and Izumi, unbeknownst to any of them that they were traveling in opposite directions.

* * *

Tamaki didn't live in the main Suou estate, and even though it was his grandmother's way of exercising her power over him, he really didn't mind it. For one, it gave him a little more freedom than constantly living with the woman would allow, and for another… Well, there wasn't anything else that made it a good thing, but the freedom really was worth it. After all, he couldn't have invited Haruhi to his home otherwise.

Haruhi had dinner with him that evening, even though having someone wait on her made her uncomfortable. They ate in an area which looked like a patio of sorts. Haruhi would have believed that they were outdoors if not for the warmth-a prominent contrast to the chilly air outside. The table itself had also been set up very romantically, with candles and flowers and altogether perfect lighting. There was no way that he hadn't planned it ahead of time. The food, Haruhi knew without asking, also had the best assortment of vitamins and minerals that one could get into a meal and still have it taste half-way decent. Tamaki always seemed to do things like that for her.

The last time they had dinner like this, Tamaki had made a comment about eating everything so that his baby would grow faster, to which Haruhi had snapped back that making her fat would not speed up the growth process. Admittedly, she was a bit short-tempered with him sometimes, but in her defense, so was Kyouya (the 'if you love Tamaki, you'll yell at him' complex, she supposed).

The time before that, he had restricted what she was allowed to eat and wiped out nearly half of a commoner's daily menu. How was a law student supposed to survive without coffee, anyway? But that was off subject. The point was, she noticed a pattern: every time they had dinner like this, he made a comment that set her off, and then promptly proposed to her.

And so, while angry, he expected her to look at that _rock_ (which wasn't good for much more than getting mugged, in her opinion) and say 'yes' to him? Of course she intended to marry him; what she had said to her father wasn't a lie, but at the same time, she knew that Tamaki probably hadn't thought things through yet.

She was surprised when he didn't say anything remotely pigheaded throughout dinner, he didn't say anything _at all_, in fact. She could tell he was watching her, though, by the feeling of his eyes on her whenever she wasn't looking. Just when she was convinced that he wouldn't be saying anything for the rest of the night (perhaps he had lost his voice?), he opened his mouth.

"Haruhi," he called gently, effectively getting her attention as she paused and placed her chopsticks down on the table. "I've been thinking," he said, giving her that sentimental look that had sincere written all over it, "About names…"

Haruhi blinked at him, "Names?"

"You see, first I thought about the name 'Fujioka Haruhi' and while it _is_ a beautiful name, I think 'Suou Haruhi' would sound even better." He pulled out a ring, then, but this one was a bit different from the rest—most notably, the size.

Haruhi looked at it for a moment, then back at him where she held his hopeful gaze for several long seconds, before relenting and extending her hand toward him for him to slip the ring onto her finger. She tried to look peeved, but Tamaki's ecstatic expression forced her to smile back at him.

"Do you like it?" he asked hopefully.

She nodded, "Yes. It's nice."

Tamaki tugged his ear self-consciously, sweat dropping, "I might have had some help picking it out…" Haruhi could almost _see_ the other five hosts standing behind him with evil glints in their eyes, as an ominous aura surrounded the hallucination.

They finished eating in silence, and then dessert was wheeled out. Haruhi wasn't a huge fan of sweets, but the cheesecake placed before her was by far one of the most delicious things she had ever tasted. To Tamaki, however, she downplayed how much she enjoyed it for fear of having fifty of them delivered to her apartment.

"While on the subject of names," she hummed, "Have you thought about the baby?"

He seemed to contemplate it before answering, "Well, there was _one_ name that I was thinking of, and I think you'll agree how perfect it is." With that, he let the syllables roll off his tongue in a way that left Haruhi smiling.

It was, indeed, a perfect name.

* * *

It took nearly an hour, but Hikaru and Minori finally made their way around to the front, where they expected to see Kaoru and Izumi.

Their expectations were not met.

"Where the hell are they?!" Hikaru barked, looking around the area irritably.

Minori shrugged, even though he hadn't really been asking her, "I don't know. Maybe they got bored with waiting? I'll try calling." And call, Minori did.

Hikaru's eye twitched, "Put it on speakerphone, I want to hear what _Medusa_ has to say."

"Minori?" Izumi answered, sounding confused. Minori attempted to respond, but Hikaru interrupted.

"Where are you people?!"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, "Uh… We're not sure."

Minori sighed, "You got lost again, didn't you, 'Zumi?"

"Hey, at least I can blame half of it on Kaoru, this time."

In the background, Kaoru muttered, "I was just following _you_."

"Jeez, don't you have any sense of direction?!" Hikaru yelled, making many a passerby stop and stare.

"Shut up, Idiot!"

"Make me, Shrew!"

"Chauvinist!"

"Buffy!"

"Communist!"

"_What_?" was asked not only by Hikaru, but Kaoru and Minori as well.

Izumi flushed sheepishly, "I don't know. I ran out of insults…"

"Okay!" Minori cried, "This fighting isn't getting us anywhere, and looking for each other is wasting time and getting us lost. Why don't we finish our shopping separately, and meet up at the hotel when we're done?" The idea was agreeable enough, and everyone gave their consent to it.

"I'll see you later, then," Izumi said, and the two girls gave their farewells to each other.

"So, what do you want to do?" Kaoru asked, observing the establishments around them.

Izumi shrugged, "Well, we have at least three hours before dark, and we still haven't had lunch yet, so I say food."

Kaoru shook his head with a chuckle, "I just _knew_ you would say that."

They found a fantastic little '50s theme restaurant complete with a fully functional old-fashioned jukebox, checkerboard floor tiles, and glittery red plastic booths. The waitresses even wore vintage pastel colored skirts and roller-skates.

Of course, Izumi was most interested in the jukebox, and she and Kaoru ended up sitting in the booth closest to it. After spending the whole meal watching Izumi stare at it in fascination, Kaoru got up and went over to it, selecting a song. No more than four notes into the intro, Izumi was able to identify the song.

"I should have known," she laughed, wrinkling her nose playfully.

Kaoru drummed his fingers on the table to the beat, "What? You don't like it? You wrote it…"

Izumi listened to her brother's voice fill the diner for a minute. "I keep forgetting that we're getting to be mainstream. It seems like it all happened overnight," she mused, growing quiet in meditation.

"This is my favorite one," he confessed, looking out the window in his own session of pensiveness.

"I thought you'd like it," she mumbled, blushing and looking away.

He raised an eyebrow and teased her, "How cute. You wrote a song for me?"

"W-well, not _for_ you, exactly! Just because you inspired it, doesn't mean it's for you," she pouted and crossed her arms over her chest, testily becoming aware of her reddening face.

Noticing her discomfort, Kaoru decided to stop picking on her. "Thanks," he whispered, reaching across the cool, white surface of their table to wrap his hand over her slightly smaller one.

The two sat quietly, smiling at each other. Neither noticed when the song ended.

* * *

Hunny returned home from his day at the dojo, and was surprised to find his wife sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room. He didn't even get a chance to ask her what was going before she peered up at him over the edge of her sketchpad.

"I've been inspired," she said simply.

"I can see that," he replied, looking at all of the sketches strewn throughout the room. Apparently, she had been drawing nonstop all day long. Neko-chan brushed against his leg, purring happily, and he bent down to pick the feline up. "Are you hungry, Neko-chan?" he asked, as the cat darted its tongue out to lick his nose.

"I fed him already," Natsumi told him, still scratching her pencil over the paper rapidly, as if she intended to make up for weeks of creative blockage in one night.

Mitsukuni stared blankly at her. Not two days ago he had been worried that she wasn't recovering fast enough, and now it was as if nothing had happened. He didn't expect such a sudden change in her mood, and he said so.

"I know," she murmured, putting down the pad and looking up at him apologetically, "But I realized how worried I was making you, and no matter how sad I am, it won't change things, so… Why not be happy? She wouldn't have wanted me to sit around feeling sorry, so I won't. Once I decided that, everything just seemed… brighter."

Hunny put Neko-chan down and began to approach the auburn haired artist, a slow smile spreading over his face.

"Can you forgive me for being so selfish, Mitsukuni?"

He dropped to his knees in front of her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. "You weren't selfish," he assured her, nuzzling against her shoulder, "I'm just glad that you're feeling better."

She hugged him back eagerly, "I love you, Mitsukuni."

Hunny planted a kiss on her lips, "I love you, too, Natsumi."

* * *

Hikaru and Minori had spent remarkably little time shopping since they had split apart from their siblings. Instead, they had found an arcade and spent several hours playing juvenile games like Whack-a-Mole and collecting enough tickets to get one of the _big_ prizes. Unfortunately, they got bored with trying to win tickets and ended up spending their tickets on costume jewelry, yoyos and candy.

"I feel like a princess," Minori mocked herself, readjusting her plastic crown on her head.

Hikaru wiggled his many-ringed fingers at her, "So do I." They shared that moment of humor as they approached their hotel. They had worn their painted plastic finery the whole taxi ride there, and they intended to adorn them through the lobby all the way to their suite.

When they got to said suite, Koaru and Izumi were already there waiting for them. The two brothers wasted no time running to each other and trapping themselves in a mutual embrace—a habit after so many years, no doubt. Minori watched them with stars in her eyes while Izumi snorted.

"You're just mad because _your_ boyfriend is the uke," Minori hissed to her ill-tempered sister—a fact that Izumi neither confirmed nor denied.


	9. Chapter 9

**Darling**

**Chapter 9**

Amelia stretched, arms up over her head and back arched. It was truly a day that could be called 'Lazy Sunday', as it was already past noon, and she still hadn't bothered to get dressed. It was uncharacteristically sloppy of her, but Mori had already told her that he had business to attend to, and he wouldn't be at her house until later that evening.

Straightening her silk camisole, she sat up with an inward groan. Truth be told, she was bored out of her skull. She stretched again as she stood to make her way into the kitchen, all the while making a list of things that she could do: reorganize her closet, alphabetize the fridge again, watch television while eating ice cream with the _big_ spoon… The last one made her grin wickedly, as she all but pranced to her freezer in search of the frozen goodness. Her dreams were crushed when she looked inside and realized that she had eaten it all the night before. If she had been any weaker, she probably would have cried.

She decided that a nice, hot shower would probably do her good, as she stripped down, but after eating a full tub of ice cream, chose to forgo stepping on the scale. She stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, then grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her, twisting it into a pseudo-knot above her cleavage to make certain it was secure. Even when she was alone, she found having her towel unintentionally slip off to be automatically embarrassing.

She then proceeded into her bedroom to towel dry, and dressed in a hot pink turtleneck and faded skinny jeans. As she pulled her hair into a ponytail to dry and donned her customary six-inch heels, she noted how mundane her life would be to anybody who might read about it.

She was just about to make a sandwich for herself, when there was a knock on her door. Looking at the clock (it was now one o'clock) as she went to answer the door, she wondered who it could be. For a brief moment, as her hand lingered over the doorknob, she wondered if it was one of her mother's henchmen come to kill her or something, but shrugged the idea off and pushed the door open. On the other side, she was met with a face similar to her boyfriend's, but it wasn't Takashi, it was his younger brother.

Satoshi waved, "Hi."

She raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like she had ever really spoken to the younger Morinozuka, which is what made this visit so strange. "What are you doing here?" she asked, a little less politely than she had meant to.

He didn't seem fazed by it. "I've come to kidnap you," he explained matter-of-factly.

She eyed him skeptically, "What?"

"Follow me," he commanded, grabbing her wrist and dragging her to a black car that was idling on the street.

She didn't do much protesting, realizing that resistance was futile. At least, not until she suddenly had a blindfold tied around her eyes. "What are you doing?" she attempted to remove the blindfold, but he grabbed her hands. For a second, she thought he might tie her up, but he only held her hands gently.

"It's a surprise," he told her, and even though she couldn't see him, she could hear the smile in his voice. "Just cooperate, okay?"

She wasn't exactly one for leaps of faith, and the blindfold was making her very nervous, but she knew she could trust the boy holding her hands. He wasn't as stoic as his older brother, but the two shared their steadfast, goodhearted natures.

With a final sigh of resignation, she let a small smile creep to her face and nodded, "Okay."

* * *

"Hello, all you mommies and daddies-to-be," came the cloying whisper-speak of the parental exercise instructress, a woman with flowing white shirt and sky-blue leggings, pink cat-eye glasses, and no shoes.

"Hello!" Tamaki greeted back in unison with the other couples. Haruhi didn't say anything, trying to remind herself why she had agreed to come in the first place.

The woman sat on a yoga mat at the front of the room. "Since this is our first day together," she breathed annoyingly, "Let's go around the circle and introduce ourselves. I'm Akida Yoko. I am not pregnant, but I have seven children." Following her example, the next person went, and the introductions continued counterclockwise until they came to Tamaki and Haruhi.

"I am Suou Tamaki, and this is my fiancée, Haruhi," Tamaki stated enthusiastically, ignoring Haruhi's grumbling about her ability to say her own name. "Haruhi is nineteen weeks pregnant, and we're happy to say that this is our first baby!"

There were murmurs from the other couples. Most likely, they were all commenting on how sweet it was that he was so excited about his impending fatherhood. That wasn't to say that Haruhi wasn't also excited; she just wanted people to stop randomly touching her stomach. At least in this place, where all of the women were her size or bigger, she didn't feel so awkward.

Once everyone in the circle had a turn, Yoko sat up on her knees. "Okay, mommies, now we're going to do some stretching. Be sure not to overdo it," she instructed, "And daddies, you be sure to support them, okay?"

Haruhi sighed, doing the tasks that had been assigned to her and the other women. There were a few warm-up stretches, but it was mostly breathing exercises. She had gotten a look at the bill a few hours before, and didn't understand why so many people would pay so much for what was, when boiled right down to it, meditation. She could be doing this at home for free—of course, Tamaki would never accept that.

After an hour the woman's irritating, sickly sweet tips on how to _breathe properly_ (Haruhi tried not to scoff at that; she had gotten through twenty-one years without the woman's help, and she didn't feel that she needed it now), everyone said their goodbyes and went home. Tamaki seemed excited to go back, so Haruhi decided not to dampen his spirits by telling him that she was thankful for it only being once a week.

"Maybe I should sign us up for parenting classes, too," Tamaki mused.

Haruhi shrugged, "I don't think it's necessary, but we could if you want to."

"Do you want to start interviewing nannies next week?" he asked, now off on something else. They got to his car, and the chauffer opened the door for them.

Haruhi waited to answer until they were both situated inside the vehicle and the doors were closed behind them. "I don't know," she hummed thoughtfully, "I mean, as important as finishing school is to me, I don't really want to leave the baby. Then again, I suppose a nanny would be better for her than a daycare…"

Tamaki wasn't listening, already producing a pile of brochures from, seemingly, thin air. "Where do you want to honeymoon? Hawaii? Rome? Oh! How about Australia? I hear Fiji is nice…"

_There's no point in answering, he'll just be off on something else in a second_, thought Haruhi with an inward groan. He then began to ask which diaper brand they should buy, which put a smile on her face, irritation dissipating. Sometimes, she wondered if she knew him _too_ well.

* * *

Still blindfolded, Amelia had to trust that the boy holding her hands would lead her safely through what could be, for all she knew, an obstacle course.

"Door," he warned her calmly, guiding her inside unharmed. Once inside the unknown building, Amelia paused, listening intently in an attempt to guess where she was.

There was an unfamiliar clattering, that seemed to echo from all around her, and every few minutes, there was a short, quick shout of Japanese, but the word was unfamiliar to her. There also seemed to be quiet murmurs coming from someplace or another, but she was unable to make out what was being said or where they were coming from.

"Come on," Satoshi said, taking her hand again. As they walked, the clattering got louder, until they came to a place where everything seemed to echo more loudly.

Wherever they were, it was large, Amelia surmised. From the sounds around her, it was densely packed with people, but it had high, empty ceilings. And finally there came a shout that she recognized from that same voice that had been saying the unfamiliar words.

"Morinozuka!"

"Okay, it's time," Satoshi whispered, removing her blindfold.

She was puzzled by this. "Time for what?" she asked, as the cloth fell from her eyes. She had to blink a few times to orient herself in the dimness around her, with a handful of harsh lights pointed up at a platform in the center of the room. It was indeed large, and there were many people standing all around, just as Amelia had predicted.

Up on the platform, Mori was facing an older-looking man. Both wore simple kimonos and hakamas with their respective names embroidered on their backs, and held wooden swords. There were three other men in similar clothing standing around the edges of the platform, each with two different colored flags, one in each hand.

"What's going on?" she wondered aloud, watching the stage as Mori and his opponent seemed to be preparing, or perhaps sizing each other up.

Satoshi grinned, "Welcome to your first Kendo Competition."

Amelia nodded, now understanding. She supposed Mori couldn't be the champion without competing in tournaments at least once in a while, now could he? She had seen one broadcasted on television once, but they had been wearing armor, as she recalled.

"You know how some things are divided into age categories?" Satoshi explained when she asked him, "Well, kendo is similar up to a certain point. When they do master competitions, like this one, age doesn't matter as much, and some of the rules take different forms." He quieted then, as the match began.

Both men moved fluidly like the experts that they were, parrying the other's attacks and countering with their own. Their bokken cracked sharply at each impact, resonating around them like thunder. Amelia watched in fascination as sweat gathered on the men's brows—though be it from the exertion or from the bright lights was anyone's guess. Amelia imagined it a little of both.

She wasn't sure how long it lasted, but Mori was named the winner in the end. Amelia and Satoshi mutually agreed that there had never been any doubt of the outcome, but they both knew the other had been worried at least once.

Satoshi took up her hand once more, "It's not over yet. Follow me." He pulled her back out (what she guessed was) the way they had come in, and led her through several hallways. They reached an area where the floor was carpeted, and the plastic tiles that had numbered the doors along the way were replaced with brass numbers and key-card locks. This corridor also had more people in it than the rest.

Satoshi pulled a plastic card from his coat pocket and opened a door. "Wait inside please," he motioned into the room with one hand while holding the door open with the other.

She entered as he requested, and he closed the door behind her without another word. Now, alone in the room, Amelia examined her surroundings. It seemed to be a movie star's dressing room, which wasn't very far off the mark. These were the rooms that the celebrities stayed in when they were going to be doing a show in one of the theaters that the large building housed. On the far wall, there was a vanity, which looked mostly abandoned save for a duffel bag resting on the wood surface. Opposite the vanity was a couch and an ottoman, which had a coat thrown sloppily over it.

Amelia crossed the room and perched herself onto the side of the ottoman that was not currently occupied by the coat. She continued to look around, but there wasn't much to hold her attention in the white-walled room. Not even a painting or a clock.

She was finally saved from her boredom when the door opened and Mori joined her inside the tiny space. She hadn't realized how low the ceiling was until she saw him standing under it with little more than a hand's width keeping him from hitting his head. He didn't look like he planned to say anything, so she took the initiative.

"Good job out there," she smiled at him, "I've never seen anything like that in my life."

Satisfied, he nodded and moved to sit next to her. "It was an important match," he confessed. "With it, I have reached a level that surpasses my father."

She leaned toward him, resting her head against his shoulder, "Why didn't you just invite me? You didn't have to send your brother to kidnap me," she told him, then yawned, feeling lulled by his scent and body heat.

"I didn't want to talk about it beforehand because I was worried I might get ahead of myself," he shifted, taking her face in his hands and looking her in the eye. "I'd like to ask you to marry me."

For a moment, Amelia stared dumbly at him, jaw slack, unsure if he was really proposing, or if he was just asking permission to propose later. The latter seemed ridiculous, though, and she smiled once more. "Yes," was her simple answer, as she reached for him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Mori seemed pleased with this response, as when they pulled away from each other, he was also smiling. He reached behind him into the pocket of the coat that he was partially sitting on and pulled out a little velvet box, which when flipped open revealed a simple gold band with a princess cut diamond. Wordlessly, she gave him her left hand, and he slipped the ring onto her third finger, where it gleamed proudly in the fluorescent lighting.

* * *

Mori and Amelia knelt at the low tea table where the Morinozuka patriarch received guests. Even with the cushioning below her, Amelia found her legs aching quickly in the unfamiliar sitting position, and Mori's father hadn't even come into the room yet. She groaned inwardly at the thought of holding this posture throughout their visit.

The door suddenly slid open and in stepped a man that looked like what Amelia suspected Mori would look like in about twenty years—Morinozuka Akira. He closed the door firmly behind him and made his way to sit at the table across from them.

"Takashi," he grunted lowly, as his son bowed his head respectfully. Amelia dipped her head similarly when Akira gave her an equally standoffish greeting. Formalities aside, the graying man turned back to his eldest son with a hard look. "I hear that you've chosen to engage yourself without my permission," he said, getting right to the point.

"Yes."

Akira closed his eyes briefly in thought, "And you don't intend to change your mind?" The air was thick with tension; both men sat rigidly, staring each other down.

"No," Mori finally answered.

The aged Morinozuka let his shoulders fall slightly (causing both Mori and Amelia to subconsciously relax also), but then clenched a fist on the tabletop. "I see," he murmured, tapping his knuckles on the highly polished surface once, before letting his arm fall to his side. "Then I suppose there's nothing I can do."

Mori eyed him for a moment as if he suspected it to be some kind of trick, but all he got was an even gaze back. The two men shared a moment in which there seemed to be a silent conversation, before they broke eye contact.

Morinozuka Akira stood then, and a maid entered as if she had been listening in the whole time, which was probably the truth. She carried a box in and set it gently on the tea table before bowing and exiting.

The box was medium-sized and so plainly common in shape that one could suppose it contained virtually anything. It was wrapped in simple brown paper with no markings on the outside to distinguish it from any other brown package.

Akira pushed the box toward the couple's side of the table, centering it between them, and then knelt once more in his original position. "A little over a month ago, I had a visitor," he told them. "He asked that I give this to you when you decide to marry."

Amelia looked to Mori, who didn't seem at all bothered by this information, before she dared to ask the older man, "And in the event that we never did?"

"I would be free to do with it whatever I saw fit," he answered. "I was assured that the contents were valuable."

Amelia's eyes were drawn back to the box, then to the man beside her who was now peering curiously at said box. Who was it from? Someone back in London? An acquaintance of Mori? The word 'valuable' rang in her ears, not out of greed, but purely because it meant that whoever had sent it must care enough to give them something expensive.

Akira then turned and bade them farewell on his way out, only to pause and turn back to Mori. For a brief moment, his stony features seemed almost proud of his son, but it was gone as soon as it came. Though he didn't approve of the younger man's choice of bride, he accepted it with quiet dignity.

* * *

They returned to Amelia's condo silently, neither speaking even as Mori put the box on the table and they each took their usual positions on the couch. The stillness continued for three hours, in which time Mori and Amelia merely stared at the package as if something would pop out of it.

Nothing did, and in the minutes after that three-hour period, Amelia became impatient and pulled the box flaps open, using the edges of her French tipped fingernails to break the tape.

Inside was a smaller, polished wood box with a rose carved onto the lid and an envelope with Amelia's name written on it in cursive. Amelia recognized this handwriting. Deciding to forgo formalities, she opened the decorative box first. The inside was lined with velvet and molded to hold its contents perfectly. What this box was designed to contain was an antique Turkish Flintlock Pistol. She pulled out the gun to examine it. Amelia had only seen it once before, when she was twelve, and her father hadn't allowed her to touch it at the time. Now she ran her fingers over the carved and embossed wood, feeling the roses and vines that embellished the handle and sides of the barrel. Setting the pistol aside, she pulled the letter out and began to read aloud:

"_Dearest Amelia, if you're reading this, then I have reason to congratulate you. Unfortunately, I probably won't be attending your wedding—I'm sure I won't be allowed. She is angry enough at me as it is._

"_Regardless, I give you my best wishes and all those other lies that bitter people tell anyone who has managed the unmanageable and found happiness. I have a request, though: when you have a son, and I know you will, give him the gift I have sent along with this letter. I know how you feel about it, but it belonged to my great-grandfather and has been a family heirloom since. Your brother was its last owner, and I'd like you to continue to pass it down. Even if you don't like it, it's still a part of who you are._

"_I'm proud that you've taken control of your own life. Good luck to you and Mr. Morinozuka._

"_Your Father._"

Amelia smiled. She had spent so many years trying to earn her parents' love and appreciation, and only once she stopped caring about those things, was her father proud of her. She put the letter and pistol away, then took her favorite position on Mori's lap and leaned up to plant a kiss on his jaw.

"What was that for?" he asked, absently lacing his fingers with hers.

She pressed her cheek to his chest, resting there and listening to his steady heartbeat. "Just grateful to you for helping me fly," she replied, closing her eyes comfortably. The last two days had been blindingly happy for her, and she only hoped that nothing bad would come along and ruin the rest of the week.


	10. Chapter 10

**Darling**

**Chapter 10**

Natsumi looked through the viewfinder on her new camera. It was the most sophisticated piece of equipment she had ever gotten her hands on. Just looking through the lens made the world around her appear as if it were in high-definition. More real, somehow.

"Do you like it, Natsu-chan?" asked her husband, breaking her away from her thoughts and pulling her back to the pretty little table in the middle of the beautiful garden where they sat for lunch.

"I love it, Mitsukuni," she told him truthfully, "But what's the occasion?" The auburn-haired girl smiled teasingly, "Have you done something bad?"

Hunny glanced away. "You know how Otou-sama visits me at the dojo on Thursdays?"

"Mm-hm," Natsumi nodded, a little worried.

"Well, he came yesterday, as usual, and we had tea. And we talked about… things." Hunny whimpered, "But yesterday, he brought Chika-chan and my grandfather with him. And they were asking me when an heir was expected."

Natsumi paled. The subject often came up whenever Mitsukuni's family were all together. "Oh," was all she managed.

"And I might have told them that we were… expecting."

"Mitsukuni!"

"I know! I'm sorry! They just…" His shoulders drooped, and he let out a breath. "I'm sorry."

"So now we have to…?"

"We don't _have_ to. I know it makes you uncomfortable."

"But…" She bit her lip, "What if I… wanted to?"

Hunny blinked at his timid wife. Surely he hadn't heard what he thought he heard. But, from the way her eyes flickered to him expectantly, it would seem he had heard her right. When the realization had fully settled on him, he broke into a smile and jumped from his seat.

"Come on, Natsu-chan! We'd better hurry home!" he shouted, dragging her away from the table, while simultaneously making anyone within a fifteen foot radius stare at them.

"Wait! Mitsukuni, what about lunch?!" she cried, just barely having time to grab her new camera before he could get her too far from it.

Lunch would have to wait. Hunny was on a mission.

* * *

Tamaki looked around. He was standing in Kyouya's new house, which was as big as the main house of the Ootori estate, but with less modern décor. The mansion had been a wedding gift from Renge's father, who had had it fully furnished in a style that rather suited his daughter's tastes.

Settling himself on a velvety red loveseat, Tamaki looked to his best friend, perched on the edge of a gold French provincial chair. "How was your honeymoon?" he asked, noting how Kyouya seemed rather mesmerized by his tea.

"Fine," he answered automatically. "Seychelles was just as exquisite as its brochure made it out to be."

"Where is Renge, anyway?"

"In France. She'll be there for another week."

Tamaki nodded, smiling somewhat sadly at the thought of France. He intended to take Haruhi there one day; perhaps after the birth of their daughter, so they could go as a family. "Have your feelings for Renge changed at all?" he asked.

Kyouya gave him a sharp look. "Have you spoken to your grandmother about Haruhi?"

Tamaki recognized this as the change of subject that it was, but chose not to press the original matter. "No," Tamaki answered at last, quietly.

"If she finds out on her own, things will be much worse. Not just for you, but for Haruhi as well." Kyouya frowned, rubbing his temple, "You aren't even _trying_ to be discreet anymore, are you?"

"I'm not going to hide Haruhi away like she's… Like she's…"

"Your mother?"

Tamaki looked away from Kyouya, unable to meet his bespectacled gaze. "Yes. Like she's a dirty secret that must be hidden to protect my reputation," Tamaki bit back angrily, but not at Kyouya.

Kyouya stared on. There was something fascinating about watching Tamaki's hatred for his grandmother boil over, and nothing caused that boil quite like bringing Haruhi into the mix. After a heavy silence, Kyouya murmured, "What will you do, Tamaki?"

Tamaki only lowered his gaze, suddenly admiring the plush rug below his feet.

"What will you do?"

Tamaki thought. He had been wondering that himself, but only when he couldn't find something else to occupy his mind with. He wiggled his socked toes into the fluffy fibers of the intricate rug, moved his eyes over the uncomfortable-looking chair that Kyouya bravely sat upon, smoothed the pads of his fingers over the sleek fabric below them. And then he smiled.

Kyouya started at the sudden change in Tamaki's mood. Slowly, he set his teacup down onto the polished table between them, and fixed his best friend with a suspicious look. "Tamaki?"

His violet eyes locked with Kyouya's coal-colored ones, and he resisted the urge to laugh. "We're going to see Renge," he told the brunet.

"I just saw her. And what does this have to do with your grandmother?"

"Not you! Me and Haruhi."

"Haruhi and _I_," Kyouya corrected him.

Tamaki '_tsk_'ed. "Why do you _insist_ that you are coming?"

"… Never mind."

Tamaki leapt from the sofa and ran for the door. "I'll call you when we get there!" he called back over his shoulder.

Kyouya couldn't help but be highly confused. He looked at the spot on the rug where Tamaki had managed to drop his tea. Kyouya would have to get it replaced before Renge came home, or she'd throw a fit.

* * *

"Ugh, I'm so nervous," Izumi muttered, fussing with the hemline of her cocktail dress. Said dress was a Hitachiin Brothers (as opposed to their mother's designs) original, and coordinated with Minori's dress. Both were short, black, form-fitting, strapless numbers with colored beading—Izumi's beading was green, while Minori's was yellow.

Minori peeked out the window of their limo. "I don't think we dressed slutty enough," she commented, comparing their dresses to some of the ones worn by the other musicians who were already on the red carpet.

"Don't worry, you both look plenty slutty," Hikaru assured them.

"Aw, thank you!" Minori smiled, while Izumi rubbed her temples. Leave it to Minori to take something like that as a compliment.

Izumi threw her head back and groaned. "I'm going to fall down, I just know it! All of those cameras… I mean, that's just Muphy's law."

"I know," Hikaru nodded. "And it'll be hilarious!"

Kaoru shot his brother a disapproving look and patted Izumi on the shoulder. "I'll be right next to you the whole time," he promised. "You can hold onto my arm." Izumi blushed and looked away as Hikaru and Minori started poking fun at their twins.

Their limo finally got up to the red carpet, and they all climbed out, taking a minute to pose for the photographers before walking up to the waiting pre-show interviewers and yet more photographers. The interviewers couldn't seem to get enough of the "twin thing". After the usual mundane questions, though, they were able to pass.

"So far, so good," muttered Izumi, and Kaoru snickered.

"Minori, Izumi!" called a voice from behind them as they were about to take their seats, and the girls turned to face their biggest musical rival.

"_Fiona_," simpered Minori in the fake friendly way that only girls seemed capable of. "_I didn't know you were here or I'd have said hi already._"

"_Well, we __**were**__ both nominated for the same award,_" Fiona mimicked Minori's tone. "_Best of luck to you, by the way. I really hope you get it this time, since I've already gotten it twice._"

Izumi ground her teeth but stayed out of it, unable to do the whole "frenemy" thing, and not trusting herself to stay civil. Usually she wouldn't care, but they _would_ be on live TV in a minute.

"_Best of luck to you, too_," Minori replied just as insincerely. Unfortunately, Fiona had won that round. The starlet _had_ already won the award for Song of the Year twice, while this was Korota's first nomination.

Fiona left them alone then, and the four found their seats. They were soon joined by Komugi and Sumire just in time for the show to start. The opening act started up as producers and cameramen and interns flitted around, trying to ensure that the night went as planned.

"_Twenty bucks says it all falls apart before the third performance_," Komugi whispered, earning a smirk Izumi.

As if on cue, the show went to commercial, and there was a great deal of frantically shouting through headsets and into cell phones.

"_Well, how far are they?_" demanded a producer as he passed by Sumire's seat. "_I understand that, but they only have three minutes until their scheduled performance!_"

Izumi scowled and passed a twenty to her brother.

* * *

Natsumi stared up at the ceiling. "Wow," she breathed.

Beside her, Hunny sighed contently and rolled over. "Yeah."

And, at that very moment, all around Tokyo, several of the women that had attended Ouran Academy felt a small piece for their girlhoods die.

* * *

"I'm a little surprised that you haven't spent any time with Mister Haninozuka today," Amelia said over her shoulder as she measured out flour for what would hopefully become cookies. "Not that I'm complaining," she added. "It's been nice having you to myself."

Mori sat in a kitchen chair at the little two-person table, watching the blonde as she attempted to bake. It was likely to be a disaster, but he was willing to encourage her in any activity she decided to try. "He's busy," he answered vaguely.

"Oh?" she wanted to ask what Haninozuka was busy with, but decided that Mori hadn't specified for a reason. "Well, we are just as busy," Amelia smiled at him.

"We could be." At her curious expression, Mori grabbed her by the waist and pulled her away from her baking.

The abandoned bowl sat lonesome until the next morning.

* * *

The ride back to the hotel was mostly quiet. Minori muttered under her breath while Izumi sighed from time to time. Korota's Record Awards performance had gone well, but when the Song of the Year award came up…

"You'll get it next year," Kaoru tried.

"It's an honor just to be nominated, right?" Hikaru added.

Both sisters scoffed before Minori slapped the leather seat. "That Fiona Stone," she snarled, "I hate her so much!"

Izumi looked out the window, "It's just so disappointing. Forward was my best work yet, and it still wasn't good enough." Minori simmered down long enough to take notice of her sister's dejected face. Izumi _had_ put in the most work of any of them on their latest album, so it was probably a harder slap in the face to her.

"You know what? They're right," Minori told her. "It's a big deal that we were even nominated, and that just means they notice us, and they'll be listening for something even better next year!"

"Do you think we can do better?" Izumi was skeptical, but Minori looked certain.

"I _know_ we can." Minori smirked, "You and Kaoru will just have to break up so you can write sadder songs. It works for all the other songwriters."

Izumi snorted, "That's true, but they don't have you for a sister."

* * *

"I can't just leave. I have classes and work," Haruhi protested, as she watched her fiancé pack her bags with no intention of helping him. She was not going along with him on his silly whim. That was not how real life worked.

"You're ahead in your classes," he reminded her, surprising her. She hadn't known that he kept track of her academic progress. "And you should be on maternity leave already, anyway."

She rolled her eyes. Didn't he know that maternity leave only lasted 12 weeks? With a groan, Haruhi laid back on the bed. "Why do you suddenly want to go to…" she was momentarily distracted by a dress that he stuffed into her bag, and got up to undo his bizarre packing. "To France?" she finished after emptying out the frilly dress, ten sets of pajamas, fourteen pairs of socks, and two pairs of underwear.

"Because," Tamaki said. Haruhi expected this to be followed by a _reason_, but it seemed that was too much to ask of the flighty blond.

"Because why?"

At this, Tamaki turned to her and gave her a very 'if-you-love-me-you-won't-ask-questions' look, leaving Haruhi with nothing better to do than to mentally smack herself for suddenly noticing how beautiful his eyes were. _Damn hormones_.

Sighing, Haruhi relented. "I suppose I _could_ use a vacation," she muttered. In the years since she had graduated high school and begun working, she hadn't used any of her vacation time aside from when she had attended Hunny's wedding. It wasn't really in her nature to not be working when she could be, but Tamaki seemed set on going to France, and Haruhi felt she owed it to him after dragging her heels at every suggestion he made.

"So we can go?" his eyes were big and hopeful.

"Sure. Why not."

He tackled her, showering her with kisses. And, for the first time in a while, Haruhi didn't complain about him distracting her from studying, or scold him about wasting time. She happily accepted, and even returned his affection.

* * *

Hikaru looked up at the sign above the door and frowned as he followed his brother inside the jewelry store.

"Want to tell me why we're here, now?"

Kaoru took a deep breath, "We're looking for… and engagement ring."

Hikaru froze. "What."

"I don't want us to drag our feet anymore. We're ready for the next step."

"'We' as in you and Izumi," Hikaru muttered. He remembered when the only 'we' in Kaoru's mind was Hikaru and Kaoru. "Don't you think it's still a little soon?"

Kaoru glanced away from the glass case and up at Hikaru. "We've been dating for two years."

"So have Minori and I, and _we're_ not there yet."

"Well, I…" Kaoru paused and sighed. "Maybe you and I aren't going to be able to do _everything_ at the same time. You're the last one I would've thought I'd have to remind that you and I are not the same person." Kaoru hated seeing Hikaru upset, but he really hadn't expected his brother to react this way. "Why can't you just be happy for me?" he asked.

Hikaru snorted and stepped away from where he'd been leaning against the display case. "Oh, I am. I'm _ecstatic _for you," he spat before turning on his heel and marching out of the jewelry store.

"Hikaru!"

* * *

**A/n: Wow, it's been like four years since I last updated. Half of the scenes in this chapter were written 3-4 years ago, and half of them were written today. I don't think there's an obvious difference in writing style (which I'm not sure is exactly a good thing), but if there is, I'm sorry. I guess that's the consequence of not updating a fanfic for several years.**

**I don't like having these unfinished fics on my page, so I decided to either finish or delete them, and I love this one too much to get rid of it. There's probably only two chapters left, anyway, since Hunny and Natusmi's, Mori and Amelia's, and Kyouya and Renge's plotlines have all been wrapped up.**


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